


Fledgling Realisations

by BakenandEggs



Series: A Fledgling and His Sire [1]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Abuse, Childe & Sire Interactions, Childe/Sire Bond(s), Corporal Punishment, Gen, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Season/Series 02, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6971902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakenandEggs/pseuds/BakenandEggs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Drusilla left Darla’ court, she took her sire’s youngest childe with her for protection. So what if he was only a fledgling? She could simply magic him into the master vampire she needed him to be. But now, over a century later, the magic has begun to degrade and a chipped Spike visits Angel in LA to beg remittance into his sire’s court. Gen. No slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot tell you how excited I am to be sharing this story. Of all the stories that I have written this year, this is my absolute favourite! But there are a few things I need to warn you about:
> 
> First – If unequal power dynamics squicks you out (as it does my sister), you shouldn’t touch this story with a ten foot pole. 
> 
> Second – This story is Gen, and always will be Gen. There will be no slash and any het pairings will be between minor characters. This also means that there will be absolutely no sex in this story.
> 
> Third – This story is AU, which means that some parts of it are different from BTVS canon. The biggest diversion from canon is the vampire culture, but there are others (i.e. Angel is Spike’s sire, Angel has three extra childer, etc). 
> 
> That all said, I hope you enjoy this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

Spike leant against the trunk of a tree and lit his third cigarette as he stared at the large building across the street.

Bloody hell, what was he thinking? Did he really want to do this?

It had seemed like such a good idea yesterday. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. It had taken him a week to convince himself that it was a good idea. And in the end the only reason he’d decided to come was because he’d been thrashed by a gang of humans.

How embarrassing was that? He, William the Bloody, had been beaten to a pulp by four humans. It was disgraceful! He was disgraceful. He was an embarrassment to all vampires; an embarrassment to the line of Aurelius; and worst of all, an embarrassment to his sire.

He could only imagine what his sire would say about it. Not that he’d have to imagine it for much longer if he managed to convince himself to go ahead with this stupid plan.

Spike turned his attention back to the hotel that his sire had claimed as his own. Why had he thought this was a good idea? It had been less than a year since he’d kidnapped his sire and tortured him for information about that bloody ring. His sire would probably kill him on sight and Spike knew that he deserved it.

Did he really want to do this? Crawl back to his sire, tail between his legs, and ask for mercy? He’d been independent of his sire for one hundred years! Did he really want to submit to sire again?

Spike dropped his cigarette and ground it under his foot, snarling at the pain that the movement caused him. The problem was that the answer was yes. It hadn’t been his choice to leave his sire, his sire had left him and – despite Drusilla’s best efforts – Spike had spent the last hundred years missing him.

He pushed himself off the tree with a sigh, wincing when the motion sent a shock of pain through his leg. The bloody humans had really done a number on him and, despite the fact that it had happened two days beforehand, he wasn’t healing – not like he should have been. He was just too malnourished for his body to heal itself.

Spike took out another cigarette and considered lighting it, before putting it away again. There was no point in postponing the inevitable. He knew that he would end up entering Angelus’ bloody hotel – what other choice did he have? He couldn’t feed himself, let alone protect himself. He was more helpless than a newborn fledgling – he needed his sire.

The street was quiet as he crossed the road and made his way to the entrance of the bloody hotel. It reminded Spike of his sire’s mansion in Sunnydale, Angelus had always liked buildings that were significantly larger and more pretentious than was needed.

“You alright there, man?”

Spike spun around his shock, before taking a step back when he saw a human standing behind him. Not just any human, a tall black man with a battle axe swung over his shoulder. Spike could only imagine the pain the man could cause him if he tried.

And how pathetic was that? A member of the Scourge of Europe being scared of a human being, battle axe or no battle axe.

“ ’m fine.” Spike told the man who was looking concerned. “I’m looking for Angel.”

“You’re in the right place then.” The man grinned. “He’s out at the moment, but he should be back soon. You can wait inside if you like.”

There was nothing Spike wanted less than to wait inside Angel’s hotel with a bloody human, but he grunted in agreement and followed the other man inside. Maybe if there were witnesses around his sire would be more likely to hear him out before staking him.

“Anyone home?” Gunn called as they made their way across the large entrance hall.

“Gunn! How did it go?” Cordelia asked as she entered the hall through one of the many doors.

Spike winced when he recognised the woman, he was pretty sure that his chance of survival had just dropped considerably.

“We got them.” Gunn announced proudly. “There were four of them, but they didn’t stand a…”

“Spike!” Cordelia shrieked suddenly.

Gunn looked confused. “What?”

“What the hell is Spike doing here?” Cordelia asked harshly, backing towards the door she had just come through. “Wesley, we need a stake out here.”

Spike grimaced and took a step backwards, spreading out his hands to show that they were empty.

“He’s a vampire?” Gunn moved so that he was standing beside Cordelia, his axe raised in anticipation.

“He’s Spike!” Cordelia sounded exasperated. “We’ve told you about him. Remember, Angel’s kid.”

“Oh!” Gunn tightened his grip on the axe.

“Here!” Wesley arrived at the door with a crossbow and passed Cordelia a stake.

“Oi, no need for that.” Spike took another step backwards. “I come in peace.”

Cordelia scoffed. “And you’ll be leaving in pieces, lots of dusty pieces.”

Spike took another step backwards, but it was slow going. His leg was bloody painful. “I just want to talk to Angel.”

“Angel’s not here.” Wesley said coldly.

“So he said.” Spike gestured to Gunn with his head. “I’ll wait.”

“I say we kill him.” Gunn announced.

“Easier said than done.” Cordelia said. “Buffy’s been trying to kill him for years.”

“He can’t hurt us.” Wesley told them. “According to Giles he has a chip in his brain that makes it impossible for him to hurt anyone.”

Spike felt his stomach drop. Angelus had known that he was helpless and hadn’t done anything to help. He knew he should have expected it, and part of him had, but at the same time he’d been hopeful – hopeful that when his sire heard about the chip he’d want to help him, protect him, feed him.

“Really?” Cordelia smirked.

“Are you sure?” Gunn asked at the same time.

Spike took another step backwards and wished that the door wasn’t so bloody far away.

“So we can kill him and he won’t be able to fight back?” Gunn asked, eyeing Spike dangerously.

“I suspect that Angel would rather we waited until he returned before making any decisions.” Wesley commented.

“He’s a vampire.” Cordelia pointed out. “A vampire who had tortured Angel multiple times – I doubt Angel would mind.”

Gunn nodded in agreement.

“We can chain him up.” Wesley suggested. “We’ve still got those chains up from last week.”

“You mean that ones that Gunn still hasn’t taken down?” Cordelia asked sharply.

“See?” Gunn grinned. “If I’d taken them down we wouldn’t have been able to use them now.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

Spike looked over his shoulder quickly and saw that the door was still at least ten steps away, he took another step backwards and then another.

“Hey!” Cordelia stalked towards him. “You aren’t going anywhere!”

Gunn jogged towards him and positioned himself between Spike and the door. Spike swore under his breath, the last time he had been surrounded by humans like this he’d been beaten bloody. At least they seemed to be willing to wait until Angelus arrived before attacking him.

Wesley stepped closer and pointed the crossbow at Spike before gestured towards the wall on his left. “Over there!”

Spike limped towards the wall where the chains hung and, when instructed to, locked the cuffs around his wrists.

“You look awful.” Cordelia told him flatly. “What happened? Did you get hit by a bus?”

Spike grimaced, but didn’t reply.

Cordelia stared at him for a moment and then disappeared through a nearby door, only to return a few seconds later carrying a chair.

“What are you doing?” Wesley asked, his crossbow now leaning against his leg.

“There’s no point me standing around uncomfortably when I could be sitting down.” Cordelia told him as she positioned the chair in front of Spike and sat on it. “Now, Spike, spill! What’s the latest Sunnydale gossip?”

Spike stared at her in disbelief, and noticed that Wesley and Gunn were doing the same.

“Cordelia!” Wesley protested.

“What?” Cordelia rolled her eyes. “It’s not like we’ve got anything better to do.”

Wesley sighed.

Cordelia looked smug as she turned her attention back to Spike. “So, how is everyone?”

“Fine.”

“Come on!” Cordelia narrowed her eyes. “I want all the gossip! How’s Buffy?”

Spike couldn’t believe he was in this situation. What kind of vampire was he? He’d actually locked himself up for them and now they wanted to gossip with them? He wondered what his sire would do to him. Would Angelus kill him for all the times he had disrespected and tortured him? Or would he simply send him away, not even caring enough to stake him? Spike’s ‘good idea’ didn’t seem so good anymore.

“Well?” Cordelia asked impatiently.

Spike sighed. “She’s good. Dating some bloody soldier – one of the idiots who put this chip in my head.”

“Of course she is.” Cordelia rolled her eyes. “And Willow?”

“Gay.” Spike answered.

“No way!” Cordelia gasped, leaning forward in her chair.

“She’s dating a witch she met at college.” Spike told her with a smirk.

“Huh.” Cordelia laughed. “I never would have guessed. What happened to Oz?”

“He ran off.” Spike shrugged. “’bout six months ago.”

 “And how’s Xander?”

“Living in his parent’s basement.” Spike answered.

“Why?” Cordelia frowned.

“Whelp can barely hold down a job for three weeks.”

“And again I ask, why?” Cordelia asked. “I mean, sure he’s a loser, but he’s not that much of a loser.”

“He’s human, isn’t he?” Spike told her. “And trying to keep up with a slayer, two witches and an army boy on steroids – all of whom are college students.”

Cordelia sneered. “And I suppose Buffy doesn’t even notice what she’s doing to him.”

Spike sneered in agreement, he had a bit of a soft spot for the human. Sure the boy could be a bit annoying, but he had a good heart and whenever he had spare cash he would buy some extra blood for Spike.

He stiffened suddenly as he felt his sire’s presence. “Angelus is here.”

“What?” Cordelia leaped from her chair and spun around quickly, the stake that Wesley had passed her in her hand. “Where?”

Gunn and Wesley had also spun around, their weapons raised at the ready.

Spike stared at them in confusion for a moment, before realising the reason for the fear. “I meant Angel’s coming – he’s still got that bloody soul if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You called him Angelus!” Cordelia accused.

“That’s his name.” Spike rolled his eyes.

The front door opened suddenly and a furious looking Angelus stalked through. “Spike!”

Spike flinched at his sire’s obvious anger and bared his neck in submission.

“He’s over here.” Gunn called out pointlessly as Angelus had already begun making his way towards the group.

Angelus stood next to Cordelia and stared at Spike, his eyebrows raised. “What happened?”

“He said he was looking for you.” Wesley answered.

“How did you chain him up?” Angelus asked, his eyes still fixed on Spike who neck was still bared.

“He chained himself up.” Gunn told him. “We just told him to.”

Angelus snorted. “Really? And he just obeyed?”

“It’s not like he had any other choice.” Cordelia told him. “We had him surrounded.”

“Is that true, Spike?” Angelus looked amused. “Did they scare you into chaining yourself up?”

Spike winced at his sire’s mocking tone. “Yeah.”

“Really?” Angelus looked taken aback.

“It’s not like he could fight us.” Cordelia said. “What with the chip and all that.”

“The chip?” Angel’s confused tone made Spike’s spirit soar. Maybe his sire hadn’t known about the chip after all.

“You know,” Cordelia started. “The chip in his head the stops him from hurting people.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed. “No, I didn’t know.”

“Oh,” Cordelia looked slightly embarrassed as she glanced at Wesley.

Wesley cleared his throat. “I received a phone call from Giles about six months ago. Apparently Spike was captured by some commandos who implanted a chip into his brain. The chip causes him significant pain if he even considers hurting a human.”

“I see.” Angel’s tone was dangerous. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I didn’t think you’d care.” Wesley replied defensively.

Angelus growled quietly and Spike looked at his sire in surprise. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you want us to leave you alone with him?” Cordelia asked.

Angelus chuckled darkly. “Spike won’t hurt me.”

“Okaaay then.” Cordelia looked at Angelus strangely. “Night.”

Once the three humans had gone Angelus sprawled himself out on the chair Cordelia had vacated.

“Why are you here, Spike?”

Spike shifted uncomfortably under his sire’s stare, before wincing at the pain it caused. “I wanted to see you.”

“Last time you saw me you tried to torture me.” Angelus commented flatly.

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.” Spike grimaced and bared his neck even more.

“Why are you here?” Angelus asked again.

Spike knew what he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t get the words out. “I…uh…”

Angelus frowned in obvious impatience before standing up and moving so he was standing directly in front of Spike. He grabbed Spike’s chin and then sank his teeth into his bared neck.

Spike felt his legs buckled beneath him and cried out in pain at the agony in his leg, but Angelus didn’t stop. His sire swallowed a few more mouthfuls of his blood before pulling back, but he still kept hold of Spike’s chin.

“You’re a fledgling!” Angelus told him, his tone a combination of surprise and anger. “My fledgling! And you dare…!”

Spike trembled with fear as he pressed himself against the wall, trying to escape from Angel’s obvious fury.

“Sire, I…”

“Quiet!” Angelus snapped and Spike obeyed instantly. Angelus returned to his chair and stared silently at Spike for a few minutes. “How did you do it?”

Spike didn’t dare pretend that he didn’t understand. “Dru cast a spell. Made me seem all master like.”

Angelus growled dangerously. “You will show respect for your betters, William!”

“Yes, sire.” Spike pressed himself against the wall again. It had been so long since anyone had treated him like a fledgling, so long since he’d been expected to behave like one. So long since he’d been at the mercy of an angry sire.

“Why did Drusilla help you?” Angelus asked.

“It wasn’t my idea, sire. It was Dru’s,” Spike flinched when he heard Angelus growl again. “Mistress Drusilla’s, I mean. She didn’t want to travel with Mistress Darla, but knew that Master Elliot would never have let her travel alone.”

“So she took you with her.” Angelus considered. “And taught you how to protect her.”

“Yeah.”

“And so you, a fledgling of barely twenty years, decided to go along with her idiotic plan?” Angelus asked coldly. “And decided to keep up the ruse for a century, even going so far as to attack me? Your sire?”

Spike bared his neck so sharply that it hurt.

Angelus stood up again and undid the chains that were holding Spike to the wall. “Follow me.”

Spike limped across the hall after his sire, before following him through a door into a kitchen.

“There’s blood in the fridge.” Angelus told him as he sat down on one of the bar stools. “Warm me up a mug.”

Spike lowered his head in submission before limping across the kitchen to the fridge. There was more blood in the fridge than Spike usually drank in two weeks and he could feel his mouth watering hungrily. He hadn’t had any blood in twenty four hours and even then it had only been one bag of pig’s blood.

“Mugs are in the cupboard to your left.” Angelus instructed and Spike retrieved a mug obediently.

Spike used his teeth to tear the bag open and then stopped with a gasp when he smelt human blood. It had been months since he had last smelt human blood like this, months since he had drunken anything other than pig’s blood. Spike bit his tongue to try and distract himself from the twisting hunger pains in his stomach before pouring half of the blood into a mug. Then he limped to the microwave and set it to heat up.

“Tell me about this chip.” Angelus instructed him as the microwave began to hum.

“I was captured ‘bout six months ago.” Spike replied, his tone respectful. “By some soldier’s playing at being slayers. They put the chip in my head, I didn’t even know it was there until I escaped.”

Angelus sneered. “You allowed yourself to be captured by humans?”

Spike grimaced in shame. “Yes, sire.”

“And what does this chip do?”

“It bloody hurts!” Spike exclaimed. “If I hurt a human, or even think ‘bout hurting one, my brain feels like it’s on fire.”

The microwave beeped and Spike retrieved the mug from it, testing the temperature of the blood with his finger. The blood smelt amazing and it took all the willpower he had not to lick his finger clean, but he wasn’t going to risk it – not in front of his angry sire.

Spike limped to Angelus and passed him the mug, his eyes carefully lowered in deference as he tried to remember all the etiquette lessons Angelus had drilled into him a century before.

Angelus took the mug and drank from it, before turning his attention back to Spike. “So you are incapable of hunting?”

“Yes, sire.” Spike stared at the floor, trying not to focus on the warm blood his sire was casually drinking.

“And yet you have clearly been feeding.” Angelus commented before taking another sip of blood. “You are not emaciated enough to have gone without for six months.”

“Yes, sire.” Spike confirmed. “The watcher has been providing me with pig’s blood.”

“I see.” Angelus said neutrally before handing his empty mug back to Spike. “Another one.”

“Yes, sire.” Spike’s stomach twisted and returned to the bench that was holding the blood bag. He poured the remainder of the blood into the mug and placed it in the microwave again.

“How often did Giles’ provide the blood?” Angelus asked.

“Every week, sire.” Spike answered and tried not to stare at the empty bag of blood on the bench. Maybe Angelus would let him lick out the dregs at the bottom.

“And how much blood did he provide for you?”

“Three bags a week.” Spike replied and his stomach twisted again in shame and desperation. Would his sire feed him now that he knew how little Spike had been drinking?

“I see.” Angelus’ tone gave nothing away and Spike bit his lip in disappointment.

The microwaved beeped again and Spike passed his sire the newly warmed blood.

“Sit.” Angelus ordered as he set the mug in front of him.

Spike sat obediently on the barstool beside Angelus and waited for his sire’s next instruction.

“Why are you here?” Angelus asked, before taking another mouthful of blood.

“I…” Spike grimaced, why was it so hard to say? “I thought maybe you’d take me in.”

Angelus’ eyebrows rose in surprise. “You realise that if I was to take you in, it would be as fledgling? There would be none of this ‘master’ nonsense.”

“Yes, Angelus.” Spike looked at the bench in front of him.

“My name is Angel.” His sire said firmly. “That is the name I choose for myself and you will respect it.”

“Yes, sire.” Spike nodded.

“I do not have a traditional court.” Angelus warned. “Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn are all the equivalent of masters here. You would be expected to treat them accordingly.”

“What?” Spike look up at his sire in shock. “You’re bloody bonkers. They’re human!”

It was only seconds later, from his crumbled position on the floor, that Spike’s brain caught up with his mouth and he realised he probably shouldn’t have insulted his sire. He groaned quietly at the pain emanating from his jaw, where the back of Angel’s hand had hit him, and from his already injured leg that he had landed heavily on.

“I have been lenient with you.” Angel’s voice sounded angrily from the barstool a few feet away. “I was lenient because I thought you were a master, but I will not allow you to disrespect me any longer.”

Spike groaned as he pulled himself onto his knees, trying to keep the weight off his sore leg. He didn’t know when he had last been so confused. This was not the Angel who had lived in Sunnydale the year before.

“ ‘m sorry, sire.”

Angel growled unforgivingly and was silent for a few minutes. Eventually he spoke. “Do you have something to ask me, childe?”

Spike considered it. Did he really want to be part of his sire’s court? To submit himself to being ordered around and beaten by his sire, to submit himself to humans?! On the other hand, Angel would probably feed him more than the watcher had, and he’d protect Spike from random humans who wanted to hurt him.

“Yes, sire.” Spike glanced up at Angel and, seeing his angry expression, crawled submissively across the floor until he was kneeling at his sire’s feet. “Sire, as a fledgling of your line, I beg to be readmitted to your court.”

Angel was silent and Spike could feel his heart sinking as he realised that his sire had in no way promised to accept him. He wouldn’t blame his sire for rejecting him, after all, who wanted a childe who couldn’t even feed himself?

After a minute of silence, one of Angel’s hands gripped Spike by his hair and pulled him up before sinking his fangs into his neck.

Spike shut his eyes in defeat. This was it then, his sire had decided to kill him. It wasn’t all bad though, his sire could have just sent him away or killed him with a stake. At least his sire had deemed him worthy of being killed in such a personal way.

But, just as Spike’s vision was beginning go fuzzy from blood loss, Angel released his neck and dropped him. Spike bit his tongue to prevent himself from screaming at the pain as he landed on his leg again, and absently pondered at the lack of blood that flowed from his tongue. It had been a long time since he had been so low on blood, in fact the last time he had been this low on blood had probably been back when he was still Angelus’ fledgling. His sire had always enjoyed seeing him helpless, too weak to even stand.

Angel stood up and Spike closed his eyes to try and fight through the pain. He wasn’t sure how much time passed, before Angel pulled him into a sitting position and set the rim of a mug to his lips. Spike inhaled the smell of warm human blood and grimaced when his stomach cramped, but he didn’t make a move to drink. Waiting for permission to drink had been one of the first lessons his sire had taught him.

“Drink, William.” Angel’s voice murmured gently and Spike shuddered in enjoyment when he tasted the first drop. Human blood tasted heavenly.

All too soon the mug was empty and Spike stuck out his tongue, desperately trying to lick any remaining blood off the sides.

“Enough.” Angel ordered before disappearing with the mug and Spike closed his eyes again, this time to try and relive the taste.

Angel appeared with another mug of blood a few minutes later and once again he held it to Spike’s lips. Spike savoured the blood as much as he could, but he was too hungry, and too worried that Angel might take it away, to make it last long.

Three mugs of blood later and Spike was feeling fuller than he could remember feeling in months. He was still weak, he knew from experience that the blood would take a while to be properly processed by his body, but for the first time since he’d had the chip he didn’t feel hungry.

When Spike had finished the last mug of blood, Angel placed the mug on the bench and gripped Spike’s chin – forcing him to look at his sire’s face.

“Welcome back to my court, William.” Angel told him seriously.

Spike felt his breath hitch in relief and he flushed in shame – vampires didn’t even need to breathe.

Angel released him. “Come with me.”

“Yes, sire.” Spike pulled himself to his feet and followed Angel out of the kitchen and then up a flight of stairs.

Angel led him into a bedroom and instructed him to stay put before leaving again. Spike looked around the room. It was obviously Angel’s, the strength of his sire’s scent alone told him that – let alone the blacked out windows. The room was large and had a huge bed set against one wall.

Angel returned a few minutes later, carrying a small mattress and some blankets which he placed in the corner of the room.

“That’s your bed.” Angel told him before passing Spike a pair of sweat pants. “Put these on, and then get on the mattress.”

“Yes, sire.” Spike shrugged off his jacket obediently and then looked for a place to put it. Angelus had always been a stickler for neatness.

“Give it to me.” Angel ordered, holding out an arm to take it.

Spike passed him the jacket and then his shirt and jeans that followed. The sweat pants were much more comfortable than anything he’d worn in years, but Spike knew he looked much more vulnerable than he normally did. It was a lot easier to pass himself off as a master when his clothes were intimidating. Not that he needed to pass himself off as a master anymore, Angel had been very clear about that.

Spike sat down on the mattress, careful to keep all his limbs within the mattress’ boundary – another thing Angelus had been a stickler for.

“Go to sleep, William.” Angel ordered as he left the room, Spike’s clothes in his arms.

Spike spread the blankets over himself and then lay down, trying to go through all of his sire’s rules in his head. He needed to remember them all, he doubted Angel would be merciful if he forgot one.


	2. Chapter 2

“Angel!”

“Good morning, Cordelia.” Angel couldn’t help but wince at having been caught, and with shopping bags in his hands no less. None of the gang had arrived when he’d left the hotel an hour ago and he’d been hoping get back to the hotel before they did.

“What happened last night?” Cordelia asked, her tone worried. “Where’s Spike?”                                   

“William is upstairs.” Angel answered.

Cordelia looked confused. “Who’s William?”

“Spike’s real name is William.” Angel explain.

“He’s upstairs!” Cordelia’s voice was shrill. “Why?”

“He can’t hurt you, remember?” Angel sighed. “And he’s upstairs because he’s going to be staying with me. I’ll explain everything later.”

Cordelia didn’t look convinced. “You can’t just tell me that you’re letting your mass murdering kid live with you and make me wait for an explanation!”

“Give me half an hour.” Angel told her. “Then I’ll explain everything to all of you together.”

Cordelia considered it slowly. “Fine, but your explanation better be damn impressive!”

Angel sighed again, having humans in his court was such hard work. Then again, the humans in his court hadn’t actually consented to be part of a vampire’s court, as far as they were concerned they were just friends. Normally it wasn’t too hard to remember that they were his friends, rather than members of his court, but he suspected it was going to be a lot harder with William around.

Angel made his way up the stairs and into his bedroom and smiled in pleasure at the familiar, though admittedly not for a long time, sight of his childe sitting on his mattress.

“William.” Angel greeted him with a nod.

William bared his neck submissively. “Sire.”

Angel nodded approvingly and then gestured to door to the ensuite. “Go take a shower. I expect you to get rid of whatever gunk you have in your hair.”

“Yes, sire.” William struggled to his feet and Angel frowned in concern as his childe limped into the bathroom. William’s leg ought to have healed significantly overnight.

Angel sat on his bed and went through his shopping bags, setting aside an outfit for Spike to wear as well as the cane he had bought. It had always been his habit to cane his fledgling children in the morning and he thought it would do William some good. He had originally started the tradition when Eliot had been a fledgling and had learnt that it cut down on many of the behavioural difficulties he’d had with Penn. He felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of caning his childe, but it was small.

He wasn’t sure why the gypsy’s soul curse and the one Willow had performed were different, but they were. Willow’s soul curse had allowed his soul to merge with his demon side, which had resulted in him no longer feeling the need to deny who he was. He was a vampire, with a conscience.

When William returned to the room wearing the sweat pants he had slept in, and with dripping hair, Angel raised an eyebrow in disappointment.

“Did I give you permission to dress, childe?”

William looked like a deer in headlights for a moment before he quickly stripped off the sweat pants and stood in front of Angel, naked and with a blush spreading across his chest and face.

“ ‘m sorry, sire.”

Angel smirked. His interest in William had never been sexual, but he did love seeing his childe embarrassed and, most importantly, obediently submitting to his embarrassment.

“I bought you something.” Angel commented casually.

William frowned in obvious concentration, before stepping towards Angel and kneeling down with his eyes lowered.

Angel smiled in approval at the evidence that William still remembered the etiquette he had been taught and placed the cane on his knees, directly in William’s range of vision.

“Look up.” He ordered

William stared at it, his expression a sort of surprised grimace, before lowering his eyes again. “Thank you, sire.”

“Stand up, and position yourself against the wall.” Angel ordered firmly. “You know the drill.”

“Yes, sire.” William pulled himself to his feet, still heavily favouring one leg, and braced himself against the nearest wall.

2-2-2

Ten minutes later, Angel led a newly attired William into the kitchen and then sat on a barstool and gestured towards the fridge.

“I will need at least four mugs, childe.”

William bared his neck and limped to the fridge. “Yes, sire.”

Angel watched as his childe began the process of heating the first mug of blood and admired the clothes he had bought his childe. William had been horrified when Angel had showed them to him, they were nothing like the younger vampire usually wore. William had clearly chosen his clothes, like his nickname, to exude power and strength – they had been a tool in his mission to disguise himself as a Master Vampire.

But William wasn’t a Master, he was a wayward fledgling who needed to be retrained. So Angel had bought him new clothes, clothes that, along with William’s ungeled hair, gave his childe a distinctly vulnerable appearance.

Angel accepted a mug of warm blood from William, watching as his childe began the process a second time – this time with a new mug. It was strange, William had certainly spent the last century behaving in a wayward manner, but now his childe was as submissive as a sire could wish for. The few mistakes that William had made since arriving the night before seemed to be mainly due to his having forgotten the proper behaviours rather than any sort of deliberate insolence.

How could this William who was limping around the kitchen, eyes lowered and neck bared, to make his sire breakfast, despite the fact that Angel had already drunken at least two pints of blood from his neck that morning, be the same vampire who had actually tortured his sire less than a year before?

Was William faking his current submissive behaviour? And if he was, to what end? On the other hand, if his childe wasn’t faking, what did that say about his previous behaviour? Maybe Drusilla’s spell had done more than make William look like a master, maybe it made him act like one too.

Angel drained his mug and then accepted a new one from William, watching as his childe flinched as Cordelia’s voice suddenly sounded from nearby.

“He’s in here.” Cordelia was saying. “I saw him and Spike go in before.

William’s eyes flickered anxiously towards the door, before he picked up Angel’s empty mug and moved back to the fridge.

“Do not shame me.” Angel warned quietly. William bared his neck in acknowledgement.

Gunn, Cordelia and Wesley all entered the kitchen a few seconds later and Angel turned around to look at them.

“Is that Spike?” Cordelia asked in shock. “Spike has curly hair?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Gunn snorted. “The dude’s wearing a cardigan! Not even Wesley wears cardigans.”

“What do you mean, ‘not even Wesley?” Wesley protested, though he looked amused.

“Good morning.” Angel greeted them. “Would you like anything to drink? William is just warming me up some blood.”

He could feel William stiffen slightly behind him, his childe understanding that he was expected to serve the humans as well as his sire.

“Uh,” Wesley glanced between Angel and William for a moment before shaking his head. “No thanks.”

“Coffee would be great!” Cordelia exclaimed with a grateful smile. “Are you making it, Angel?”

Angel shook his head. “No, William will get it.”

Cordelia looked unsure. “And what if he puts something in it? Does the chip prevent him from putting rat poison in people’s coffee?”

“I don’t know.” Angel mused. “William?”

“Yes, sire.” William confirmed, his voice quiet. “Anything that would cause a human harm.”

“How do you know?” Cordelia asked suspiciously. “Did you try to poison someone’s coffee?”

Angel turned back so that he could watch his childe’s face as he answered.

“I thought ‘bout it.” William admitted, his eyes on the ground.

“About what exactly?” Angel asked.

“Putting something in the watcher’s tea.” William told him, his posture fearful. “But the chip didn’t like it.”

“And you want him to make my coffee!” Cordelia protested. “Even if he can’t poison it, he could spit in it or something!”

“Would you put anything in Cordelia’s coffee, childe?” Angel asked in an unforgiving tone.

William’s eyes flew to Angel’s face is obvious fear before lowering again. “No, sire, never!”

Cordelia snorted disbelievingly. “Why not? You wanted to do it to Giles!”

William glanced at Angel pleadingly.

“Answer the question, childe.” Angel commanded.

William’s shoulders slumped. “ ‘cos you’re part of sire’s court.”

Angel growled quietly in warning.

“Mistress Cordelia.” William added quickly in response.

“What?” Cordelia turned to Angel her mouth open in surprise. “I’m what?”

Wesley and Gunn were both frowning. “Since when was she ‘Mistress Cordelia’?”

The microwave beeped and William brought Angel his third mug of blood.

“Don’t forget Cordelia’s coffee.” Angel chided him as he accepted the mug. “Are you sure you two don’t want anything? You can watch him the whole time.”

Wesley frowned. “I’ll have a tea, English Breakfast, white, no sugar.”

Gunn shook his head, eyeing William suspiciously as the vampire put on the kettle.

“Angel!” Cordelia tapped her foot in obvious annoyance. “What’s going on?”

Angel looked around the kitchen. “We need another chair. William, go get a chair from the hall.”

“I’ll get it.” Gunn said quickly, before ducking out the door.

William turned his attention away from the bag of blood he was transferring into a mug to look at Angel questioningly.

Angel shook his head at him and then turned to the others. “Have a seat. Cordelia, tell William how you like your coffee so he doesn’t interrupt us.”

“A half-caf, nonfat, cappuccino with cinnamon, chocolate, and extra foam.” Cordelia replied haughtily.

William looked at her in horror.

Angel rolled his eyes. “Or?”

“Milk, two sugars.” Cordelia admitted.

Gunn returned then, carrying a chair.

“How about everyone sits down.” Angel suggested. “This might be a long conversation.”

“Fine.” Cordelia sat down on the chair Gunn had bought, leaving the remaining barstools for the two men.

“Hey,” Gunn protested weakly even as he sat on a barstool.

“As though I would sit on one of those stools in this dress.” Cordelia retorted.

Wesley moved the third barstool, so that the four chairs formed a kind of circle, before taking his own seat.

“What’s going on, Angel?” Three humans stared at him seriously.

“You all know that William is my childe.” Angel started, turning his back to William.

“You mean Spike, right?” Gunn asked.

“His name was William Pratt before he was turned.” Angel explained. “I have always called him William.”

“You called him Spike in Sunnydale.” Cordelia argued.

“That was because I thought he was a Master.” Angel answered, he sighed when they all looked at him in confusion. He would have thought that at least Wesley would know about the different vampire stages.

“There are different kinds of vampire.” Angel began. “Four different kinds, though three of them are more stages of development than anything.”

Wesley frowned. “I’ve never read about there being different kinds of vampires.”

“Think about the vampires you’ve fought.” Angel told him. “How many vampires have you staked?”

“I haven’t kept count.” Wesley answered.

“Okay, but you’ve staked a lot right?” Angel commented. “For a human at least.”

“Yes.”

“Do you think you could stake me?” Angel asked him. “Think of one of those fights and put me in their position, would you have survived?”

Wesley shook his head slowly, and Cordelia and Gunn both shifted uncomfortably. “No.”

“But you’re old.” Cordelia pointed out. “It makes sense that we couldn’t beat you.”

“True.” Angel nodded. “That’s part of it. But there’s more to it than that. As far as I’m aware, all the vampires you’ve staked have been minions.”

“Minions?” Wesley looked caught between being offending and being interested.

“Minions are the first kind of vampire.” Angel explained.

“Can you pause for a moment?” Wesley asked. “I’ll be right back.”

Angel watched in surprise as the former watcher almost ran out of the room. “What did I say?”

“I think he’s gone to get a pen and paper.” Cordelia answered with an amused smirk. “You never really talk about this stuff, and well, he was a watcher.”

“Sire?” William’s voice sounded at Angel’s elbow.

Angel turned around and accepted his fourth mug of warm blood that morning. He then watched as William carefully passed Cordelia a hot coffee.

“Thank you, childe.” Angel nodded in approval. “You may make yourself some breakfast.”

The excited surprise in William’s expression clenched at Angel’s gut. He knew his childe must be starving, he had probably been hungry before Angel had drunken a pint of his blood that morning. To realise that William had expected to be left to go hungry, even after having obediently served his sire a quart of blood, made Angel want to punch Giles – and all the other scoobies who had helped starve his childe.

William bared his neck, but didn’t move away from Angel’s side.

“What?” Angel asked him.

“How much am I allowed a week, sire?” William asked quietly. “I had most of a quart yesterday.”

Angel stared at his childe who had spent the last six months being routinely starved and expected his sire to do the same. True, William had drunken three mugs of blood the previous night, but only after Angel had all but drained him. And Angel had drunken at least two mugs worth from his childe that morning. Besides which, Angel normally drank five quarts of blood a day – which was more than three times what Giles had feed William in a week.

“Until you are full, childe.” Angel answered softly, both hating and enjoying his childe’s almost tearfully grateful expression.

Wesley returned then, pen and notebook in hand, and looking excited.

William disappeared from Angel’s side and appeared a few seconds later with a teacup in hand, which he handed to Wesley. Angel hadn’t even known that they owned a teacup.

Wesley looked surprised, but nodded in thanks to William before turning his attention to Angel. “So, minions?”

“Right.” Angel nodded. “They’re basically grunts, all brawn and no brains, but even then their brawn isn’t very impressive.”

“So why make them?” Wesley asked, as he began taking notes.

“Because they’re easy to make.” Angel explained. “They only need a few drops of blood and because they’re useful. They’re basically disposable servants.”

“So why are there so many of them?” Gunn asked leaning forward.

“Half the time they’re made by accident.” Angel admitted. “A minion will kill someone, but will accidently spill some of their blood into their victim’s mouth.”

Cordelia grimaced. “How stupid does a vampire have to be to ‘accidently’ get their blood into their victim’s mouth?”

“It’s easier than you’d think.” Angel defended. “All you need is for your victim to bite you in self- defence, but that’s not the only reason there are so many of them. Some Masters don’t kill their minions before moving on, and just abandon them. Often an abandoned minion will create other minions to try and strengthen their position, but because they’re just a minion their new creation won’t have the same loyalty to their sire and so will go their own way and probably make their own minions.”

“So they’re like worker bees that breed like rabbits.” Cordelia summarised. “But what’s this Master thing? That’s the second time you’ve mentioned it. You said you thought Spike was a Master.”

“William.” Angel corrected. “And yes, I’ll come to that, but fledglings are the next kind of vampire.”

“Isn’t a fledgling a baby bird?” Wesley asked.

“So a fledgling is a baby vampire?” Gunn asked sceptically.

“Yes.” Angel nodded. “Making a fledgling is different from making a minion. To make a fledgling the vampire has to be at least a master and they have to feed their victim a lot of their blood.”

“How much?” Wesley turned to a new page in his notebook.

“At least a pint.” Angel answered. “It’s hard to do, but the result is a vampire who is already significantly more intelligent and powerful than a minion. They are naturally submissive to their sire and are basically, to use Gunn’s words, a baby vampire.

“Typically a vampire is a fledging for anywhere between thirty to fifty years, but it depends on the vampire. It took me thirty one years to reach the next stage. It’s not something you can force, a fledgling can’t just decide to become a Master any more than a child can decide to become an adult. There isn’t a whole lot of information about the process, but for a fledgling to become a master they need to spend the thirty to fifty years with their sire, or a substitute.”

Wesley’s pen was flying across the paper as the man tried to keep up with Angel.

“Weird!” Gunn commented.                         

“As interesting as this is, Angel,” Cordelia said dryly. “What does this have to do with Spike?”

“He’s a fledgling, isn’t he?” Wesley looked up from his notebook.

“But he’s, like, a hundred years old!” Cordelia argued.

“A hundred and twenty.” Angel corrected. “But, yes, Wesley, William is a fledgling. He had only been a vampire for twenty years when I left and so never made the transition to master.”

“But you said fledglings were submissive to their sires.” Cordelia protested. “Angel, he tortured you!”

Angel frowned at the memory. “I know. According to William, Drusilla taught him how to pretend to be a master and cast a spell to make it convincing. He had spent almost an entire century pretending to be a master when he met me in Sunnydale.”

“How do you know he’s a fledgling?” Gunn asked sceptically. “Who’s to say he’s not pretending now?”

Angel shifted uncomfortably. “He tastes like a fledgling.”

“Ewww!” Cordelia grimaced.

“That still doesn’t explain why he’s here though.” Gunn pointed out. “So he’s a fledgling, so what? That doesn’t make him good, and it doesn’t prevent him from trying to kill you.”

“The chip prevents him from trying to hurt humans.” Angel pointed out. “And he couldn’t hurt me if he tried.”

Cordelia snorted in disbelief. “He has tried, Angel, and succeeded!”

“That was when he was pretending to be a master.” Angel defended. “If I had known he was a fledgling he would never have gotten away with it.”

“That makes no sense!” Gunn snapped.

“Perhaps not in human terms.” Angel conceded. “But it does in vampire terms. Last night William requested to be accepted into my court, and I agreed.”

“Your court?! Angel, you don’t have a court!” Cordelia threw her hands in the air.

“I have an unconventional court.” Angel corrected.

“So what?” Gunn growled angrily. “We’re your minions now?”

“No, you’re masters in my court.” Angel answered soothingly. “Which is why William referred to Cordelia as mistress before. I have informed him that in order to be part of my court he must respect you as masters, and he agreed.”

The three humans were silent for a few seconds and Angel could hear William shift uncomfortably in the kitchen behind him.

“So what does that mean?” Wesley was the first to speak.

“It means that William will obey every order you give him.” Angel told them. “It also means that you can punish him, though I would prefer if you left that to me.”

“Him being a fledgling doesn’t make him good!” Cordelia protested.

 “True.” Angel acknowledged. “But the chip prevents him from hurting people.”

“You should have just staked him.” Gunn scowled.

“He’s a fledgling.” Angel snapped in frustration. “He’s a child, my childe! You might think that all vampires are heartless, but we’re not. Our clan, and particularly our childer are very important to us. William was hurt and he asked me to accept him into my court, I agreed.”

“You had no problem with Kate staking your other childe.” Wesley pointed out.

Angel heard William’s breathe hitch behind him and winced, he probably should have told his childe about Penn earlier.

“That was different.” Angel growled. “Penn was killing people and he refused to stop. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, and I mourned him. William is a fledgling and he can’t hurt anyone!”

“He’s a menace!” Cordelia scowled. “Do you really think you can keep control of him?”

Angel laughed softly. “Trust me, Cordelia. I have raised five childer before William. I know what I’m doing.”

“Five?” Wesley looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

“Ask me about them later.” Angel told him. “Or better yet, ask William.”

“Alright.” Wesley turned to look at William, who was still in the kitchen behind Angel. “He certainly seems well behaved now.”

“Come here, William.” Angel ordered suddenly and listened to the sounds of his childe limping across the kitchen towards them. He really needed to have a closer look at his childe’s leg.

“Sire?” William asked softly when he was standing near Angel’s barstool.

“Here is how it will work.” Angel told them all. “William won’t speak or interact with you, unless you initiate it. He will obey every command you give him, unless it counteracts one of mine. William will treat you all with the respect that is owed to you as masters of my court…”

“Why is it your court?” Gunn interrupted.

“Because I am over two hundred and fifty years older than you and could kill you in an instant.” Angel said dryly. “Because while you may be masters in my court, I am a Master vampire and you are humans.”

Gunn swallowed heavily. “Right.”

“As I was saying,” Angel continued. “William will treat you will respect. As masters of my court you may punish him as you wish, but I would prefer you simply reported his behaviour to me and trusted me to handle it.”

“How will you punish him?” Wesley asked curiously.

Angel looked at them silently for a few seconds before speaking. “William, take off your shirt.”

All three humans looked taken aback and Cordelia spoke up quickly. “He doesn’t really need to.”

When William was standing bare chested, Angel ordered him to turn around.

“What the hell?!” Gunn’s breath exploded out of him.

“Angel, how could you!” Cordelia looked horrified.

Wesley just stared at the welts on William’s back silently.

“We’re vampires.” Angel said slowly. “I hide most of that stuff from you normally, but I’m not going to be able to with William living here. I’m not a human who drinks blood, I’m a vampire with a soul. My soul doesn’t make me any less of a vampire.”

“But you don’t normally…” Cordelia trailed off.

“Actually I do, just not around you guys because it makes you uncomfortable.” Angel explained. “And I’ll still hide a lot of it, but I won’t be able to hide as much.”

“You shouldn’t have to hide.” Gunn said lowly. “This is your home.”

“And you are my friends.” Angel told them seriously.

“Maybe we could get used to it.” Cordelia suggested faintly. “Friends are supposed to accept each other for who they are.”

“We’ll see how we go.” Angel nodded.

“Can he put his shirt back on now?” Gunn asked uncomfortably.

“Certainly.” Angel agreed. “You heard the man, William.”

“Yes, sire, Master Gunn.” William acknowledged in the quiet tone he had been using since the humans had arrived.

Gunn grimaced.

“So are we done here?” Angel asked.

“I still have some questions…” Wesley told him.

“Ask William later.” Angel suggested.

“So he can help us do stuff?” Cordelia asked looking at William with a shrewd expression. “Because I have a huge pile of files that need to be sorted.”

“He can indeed.” Angel nodded as he stood up. “I need to go out, I’ll be back later.”

William was looking at him with a pleading expression, probably desperate not to be left alone with humans, but Angel figured he needed to get used them.

“Be good, childe.” Angel told him firmly. “Don’t disappoint me.”


	3. Chapter 3

Spike watched his sire leave in horror. What was Angel thinking? Leaving him alone, and completely defenceless, with a bunch of humans who, only minutes beforehand, had been advocating for his sire to stake him.

The humans didn’t look any happier with the situation than he felt and Spike fought down the urge to sneer at them. Angel had ordered him to treat them like masters, but it wasn’t easy. They smelt like food! How was he supposed to submit to food?

“Now what?” Cordelia asked sharply. “How could Angel just leave us alone with him?”

“I suspect Angel expects you to show Spike the files you want sorted.” Wesley answered calmly.

“By myself?” Cordelia eyed Spike suspiciously.

“He can’t hurt you.” Wesley pointed out. “I doubt he could even give you a paper cut.”

Cordelia didn’t look convinced.

“We could always test it?” Gunn suggested. “Angel said he had to do whatever we said, right?”

Spike stiffened, what were they going to do to him?

Gunn turned to face him and beckoned with a hand. “Come on then, punch me.”

Spike eyed the human in horror, shaking his head as he took a step back.

“What would Angel say?” Gunn taunted. “Does this interfere with any order he’s given to you? What do you think Angel will do when he finds out that you refused to obey the first order we gave you?”

Spike grimaced, he knew the human was right. He stepped towards the man, clenched his fist and moved to punch him in the gut. His fist was still inches away from Gunn’s stomach when his chip fired causing him to collapse with a cry of pain. He clutched at his head, as the shocks of pain ripped through him – only peripherally aware of the three humans who were staring at him in shock.

“Oh my god.” Cordelia exclaimed loudly, causing the pain in Spike’s head to increase.

“And now I feel bad.” Gunn commented. “You could have warned me, Wesley.”

“All Giles said was that the chip made it impossible for him to hurt people.” Wesley answered.

Eventually the pain in Spike’s head decreased enough for him to pull himself upright. It took him a few attempts, he’d fallen on his hurt leg and the pain in his knee was agonising, but eventually he stood in front of the three humans again.

“So, filing.” Cordelia said with forced cheer.

“Right.” Wesley agreed quickly. “I’ll come with you.”

“I’m be in the training room.” Gunn commented, turning on his heel and striding away.

Spike followed Cordelia and Wesley out of the kitchen and into an office that had piles and piles of papers scattered throughout it.

“Cordelia!” Wesley sounded disapproving. “Have you done any filing since we moved here?”

“I hate filing!” Cordelia defended. “I was just working up to it.”

Spike stared at the piles of papers and wondered what exactly Angel’s team did that produced this much paperwork.

“Alright,” Cordelia turned to him, her hands on her hips. “Some of these are financial, some of them are reports, some are demon descriptions, some are letters, and there’s a bunch of other stuff too. We need it all sorted out.”

“Yes, Mistress Cordelia.” Spike bared his neck towards her, desperate to please her. The consequences of not were far too great – she wouldn’t even have to lay a hand on him, just order him to try and hurt her. It was amazing how quickly his sire had become the least terrifying occupant of the hotel.

Cordelia grimaced. “Call me Cordelia, not of this ‘mistress’ stuff, it sounds weird.”

Spike considered that. His sire wouldn’t like it, but it didn’t actually contradict any of Angel’s commands.

“Yes, Cordelia.”

“Right, well, I’ll just leave you to it.” Cordelia said quickly before ducking out of the room.

Spike turned his attention to Wesley.

“I, uh, have some questions.” Wesley told him, his tone unsure. “Just a few, and then I’ll leave you to your filing.”

“Yes, Master Wesley.” Spike bared his neck again.

“What is that thing you’re doing?” Wesley asked curiously. “With your neck.”

Spike stifled a sigh. “It’s a sign of respect, I’m baring my neck, Master Wesley.”

“But why bare your neck?” Wesley pursued. “Why not just bow or something?”

“By baring my neck I give you the opportunity to kill me.” Spike explained. “You could behead me, tear my throat out with your teeth, or just drink from my jugular.”

Wesley looked nauseous. “But I wouldn’t do any of those things.”

Spike didn’t believe him. Admittedly the former watcher was unlikely to tear out his neck with his teeth, but he doubted the man would have any issues beheading him.

“Perhaps not, Master Wesley, but by baring my neck I am showing you my submission.”

“Call me Wesley.” Wesley ordered, still looking nauseous. “And you don’t need to say my name in every sentence either.”

“Yes, Wesley.” Spike acknowledged.

“Angel said he had five childer?” Wesley asked. “I only know about you, Penn and Drusilla.”

“Sire had six childer.” Spike corrected softly. “Five of whom were masters.”

“Who are the others?” Wesley asked, his pen poised above in notebook.

Spike shifted slightly and winced when the movement jolted his knee. “After Master Penn, sire created Master Abel, then came Master Jareth and Master Silas, then Mistress Drusilla.”

“And then you.” Wesley commented. “Where are Abel, Jareth and Silas now?”

“I don’t know.” Spike admitted. “Last time I saw Master Abel was in France in 1915. I saw Master Jareth and Master Silas in Vienna in 1954.”

“Why haven’t I heard about them before?” Wesley asked.

Spike almost rolled his eyes, how was he supposed to know? “I don’t know. They were never as...ostentatious as Master Angel, Mistress Darla and Mistress Drusilla.”

“Or you.” Wesley commented. “Angel said there were four kinds of vampires, but then he only explained about three. What’s the last kind?”

“Ancients.” Spike replied. “Sometimes a master becomes an ancient.”

“When?”

“I don’t know.” Spike admitted. “They have to be really old, but there’s more to it than that.”

“Have I heard of any ancient vampires?” Wesley asked curiously.

“The Master was an ancient.” Spike answered with a shudder, he had only met Mistress Darla’s sire once and it hadn’t been a pleasant experience. “So was Kakistos.”

Wesley was quiet for a minute as he wrote in his notebook. “Excellent, thank you. I’ll leave you alone now.”

Spike watched as the man left the room and then turned his attention to the piles of papers. Where should he start?

3-3-3

Three hours later, Spike had decided that there were worst jobs than filing. Sure it was boring, but it kept him out of the way of Angel’s humans and it didn’t do anything to jostle his knee. The problem was that Cordelia hadn’t given him any idea how she wanted the files sorted which gave him plenty of room to mess the whole thing up. It reminded him of living with Darla, she had taken great pleasure in giving him unspecific orders and then punishing him when he inevitably got something wrong.

He’d hated Darla with a passion, and had been bloody ecstatic when he heard that his sire had finally staked the bitch, but he’d rather Darla’s punishments to having his chip fired any day.

The humans’ demonstration in the kitchen had been an eye opener to him. He’d known that they were dangerous beforehand, his inability to defend himself against them automatically placed them in that category, but he hadn’t realised just how much they could hurt him. Hadn’t considered that they might force him to make his chip fire. It changed everything.

He’d already been planning on treating them like masters, regardless of how much they smelt like food, Angel had been very clear about his expectations in regards to that, but now it was vital that he didn’t screw up. He knew from experience that if his chip fired again that day, the pain and recovery time would get worse. If his chip fired too many times in one day, he would be a shuddering mess for hours.

Which meant he needed to come up with a strategy on how to not screw up. The best strategy he’d come up with so far was to pretend that they were specific vampires. He would pretend that Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley were Darla, Abel and Silas respectively and treat them accordingly.

Spike stiffened when he heard footsteps coming closer and held himself tightly, hoping that they would simply walk past.

“Are you done yet?” Cordelia asked as she popped her head through the door.

Spike pushed himself to his feet, stubbornly ignoring the pain in his leg, and bared his neck. “No, Cordelia.”

Cordelia grimaced and looked around the room. “It looks better anyway. You should take a break.”

“Yes, Cordelia.” Spike held himself stiffly.

“I think Gunn was hoping that you would help him train.” Cordelia mentioned after a few seconds. “He’s down in the training room. Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

Spike followed her out of the office and then through the hotel trying not to imagine what horrors were waiting for him in the training room. The best case scenario he could think of was that Gunn wanted to use him as a punching bag, worst case scenario the human wanted to experiment with his chip some more.

Eventually Cordelia stopped and gestured to a door to her left. “Through there.”

Spike bared his neck to her, as he would have to Darla, and nervously pushed the door open.

Gunn was facing away from him, beating a punching bag within an inch of its life – Spike bit his tongue to try and prevent himself from shuddering in fear.

It took Gunn a few minutes to realise Spike was there, and when he did he jumped and swore loudly.

“How long have you been there?” Gunn asked aggressively.

Spike flinched away and bared his head. “Three minutes, Master Gunn.”

“Call me Gunn.” The man ordered tersely.

“Yes, Gunn.” Spike replied and wondered what the humans had against titles. They ought to be proud to be considered masters of Angel’s court.

Gunn shifted uncomfortably and cracked his knuckles. “I was thinking that you could help me train. The punching bag is fine, but it doesn’t block me. I was thinking that I would punch at you, and you block me.”

Spike stepped towards the man and brought his hands up into a fighting position obediently. This scenario was far better than any of the ones he had thought up. If all went well, the worst he would come away with were sore arms from repeatedly deflecting the human’s punches.

“Right.” Gunn was still looking uncomfortable, but he stepped towards Spike and threw his first punch.

Spike blocked it easily with his left hand and grimaced when the chip flared gently. It wasn’t unbearable, more of a gentle warning than anything, but by the time he had blocked Gunn’s tenth punch his headache was growing.

The pain gradually increased with every punch Spike blocked and after five minutes of the exercise Spike could barely see through the pain. He managed to block a few more punches, but eventually the pain became too much and he let a punch through.

Gunn’s fist hit him firmly in the nose, but the pain barely registered in comparison to his head and knee.

“What the hell?” Gunn sounded shocked. “Why didn’t you block it?”

“Sorry, Gunn.” Spike shook his head to try and clear it and winced when the movement only increased the pain.

“You ready to go again?” Gunn asked after a few seconds.

“Yes, Gunn.” Spike answered respectfully as he tried to concentrate on the man’s hands.

“Okay.”

Spike managed to block the first punch, and then the second and third, but Gunn’s fourth punch hit Spike’s stomach. It wasn’t a particularly hard hit, Gunn was human after all, but the blow still forced Spike step back onto his bad leg causing him to collapse with a cry of pain.

As Spike lay on the floor, trying to breathe through the pain, he wondered what his punishment would be for this failure. Would Gunn order Spike to punch him again? Spike didn’t think his head could take it, could vampires fall into comas?

“What’s the matter with you?” Gunn asked sharply. “I didn’t hit you that hard? Why didn’t you block it?”

“Sorry.” Spike tried to push himself up, but his arms were shaking too much. “Sorry.”

“Childe?” Angel’s voice was gentle, but Spike flinched at the realisation that his sire had witnessed his failure.

“Sire.” Spike tried to force himself up again and managed to make it to a sitting position. His vision was still blurry, but he could make out two dark shapes in front of him and he bared his neck to them.

One of the blurry shapes moved forward and picked up him gently and Spike relaxed in spite of himself when he realised it was his sire. There had always been something comforting about his sire’s scent.

“What happened, Gunn?” His sire asked as he carried Spike out of the room.

“I thought he would be able to help me train.” Gunn answered. “I was punching, he was blocking. But something went wrong. He missed a block and I got him in the nose, then we started again and I managed to get him in the stomach. Then he just collapsed.”

Angel sighed. “It would have been his chip.”

“But he wasn’t hurting me!” Gunn argued. “He was just protecting himself.”

“So you didn’t feel even the slightest bit of pain when his arms blocked your punches?” Angel asked.

“A bit of discomfort maybe.” Gunn admitted. “But not pain.”

“Apparently his chip disagreed.”

“That’s messed up!” Gunn exclaimed. “Why didn’t he mention it?”

Angel stopped moving and Spike opened his eyes in time to realise that he was being placed on the kitchen counter.

“Here, childe.” Angel placed his wrist against Spike’s lips.

Spike looked at it in confusion. What was he supposed to do? Unless…surely not! There was no way he deserved to drink any of his sire’s blood? Besides, he had already drunken a whole quart of blood that morning, more than he normally drank in two days – there was no way his sire would allow him more blood so soon.

“Drink, childe.” Angel ordered gently and pushed his wrist against Spike’s lips.

Spike eyed the wrist suspiciously, but opened his mouth and carefully bit into his sire’s artery. He barely managed to hold back a shudder of pleasure at the taste of his sire’s blood.

“Good lad.” Angel ran his other hand through Spike’s hair soothingly.

“That’s really gross, man.” Gunn commented.

Angel chuckled.

“Why didn’t he just tell me that it was hurting?” Gunn asked after a while.

Angel sighed. “Remember when I said fledglings are like baby vampires?”

“Yeah, but even a baby would cry if you were hurting it.”

“True, but a fledgling won’t.” Angel told him. “William most likely presumed that you had planned for his chip to fire.”

“What?” Gunn sounded horrified. “I wouldn’t do that!”

Spike mentally snorted at that. Who was Gunn kidding? It had only been a few hours since Gunn had last intentionally made his chip fire.

“I know.” Angel agreed. “But William doesn’t.”

Spike felt his sire begin to pull his wrist away and quickly detracted his fangs.

“Good lad.” Angel acknowledged again, running a hand through Spike’s hair.

Spike suddenly realised that his head wasn’t hurting anymore and he wasn’t trembling either. It was almost as though the chip hadn’t fired. His leg still hurt, but even that seemed better.

“Tell me what happened, William.” Angel ordered suddenly.

“The chip kept firing, sire. Not much, but each time it got worse and worse.” Spike replied.

“Why did you fall over?”

Spike flushed in shame. “I put all my weight on my knee and it collapsed.”

Angel studied him, before turning to Gunn. “Can you go get Wesley? I want him to have a look at William’s leg.” Then Angel turned his attention back to Spike. “Trousers off, childe.”

Spike didn’t move for a few seconds, horrified that his sire was going to make him face the humans without trousers on, but he jolted into movement when Angel raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Yes, sire.” Spike undid his trousers and wiggled around on the bench to slip them off.

Gunn returned within a minute with Wesley following behind him and Spike ducked his head in embarrassment.

As a human he had been very modest, a trait that he had retained as a vampire. Angel had always enjoyed ordering him to strip out of his clothes and then watching as Spike suffered through the embarrassment.

“What happened?” Wesley asked. “Why is Spike only wearing his pants?”

“I need you to have a look at his knee.” Angel answered calmly. “Spike had a run in with some humans a few days ago and injured his knee. It should have healed by now, but it hasn’t.”

Wesley came forward and studied Spike’s knee before poking and prodding it experimentally. Spike had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from crying out at the pain.

“I think he’s broken his knee cap.” Wesley commented after a few minutes. “Did you fall heavily on your knee at any point? Or get kicked in the knee?”

Spike nodded. “Yes, Wesley.”

Angel growled. “What was that, childe?”

Spike looked at his sire in confusion. What had he done wrong? He bared his neck as a precaution.

“How long do broken bones usually take you to heal, Angel?” Wesley asked.

“It depends.” Angel shrugged. “Around four days if I’m eating enough.”

“So this should probably be about half healed then.” Wesley commented. “Perhaps he needs to stay off it for a while. I’m surprised he can even walk, the pain must be excruciating.”

Angel chuckled. “You’d be surprised at how much pain we can handle, Wesley.”

Wesley and Gunn both grimaced.

“So it’s just a broken kneecap?” Angel asked. “He just needs some rest and blood?”

“It’s a good place to start at least.” Wesley agreed. “I’ll keep an eye on it. If it’s still not healing in a few days we can discuss it again.”

“Thanks, Wes.” Angel smiled. “William, what do you say?”

Spike bared his neck towards the former watcher. “Thank you, Wesley.”

Angel’s smile vanished as he growled again, only this time the back of his hand accompanied the sound. Spike flew off the bench and landed on his side on the floor near Gunn’s feet.

“Angel!” Wesley protested loudly.

“What the hell!” Gunn exclaimed and Spike could see the man backing away from him.

“What did I tell you about treating the masters of my court with respect, boy?” Angel growled.

“His knee needs rest, Angel!” Wesley snapped. “What if he had landed on it? It might have put his recovery back days!”

Spike pulled himself to his knees, trying desperately to keep all the weight on his good knee, and bowed his head. 

“ ‘m sorry, sire.”

“What did he do?” Gunn asked sounding confused.

“William?” Angel prompted darkly.

“I treated Master Wesley with disrespect.” Spike admitted.

“I told you to call me Wesley.” Wesley frowned disapprovingly.

“What?” Angel turned to his friend. “Why?”

Wesley looked uncomfortable. “I don’t like being called ‘master’. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“We all told him to call us by our names.” Gunn agreed.

Angel sighed. “Stand up, William.”

Spike struggled to his feet and stood submissively before the three men.

“Wait,” Gunn said suddenly. “Is that why you hit him? Because he called Wesley by his first name?”

Angel pursed his lips in annoyance. “Yes.”

“But he was only doing that because we told him to.” Gunn said.

“So you’ve said.” Angel replied evenly before turning his attention back to Spike and throwing his trousers at him. “William, go sit on your mattress and put your trousers back on.”

Spike bared his neck. “Yes, sire.” He limped his way out of the room and towards the staircase, his trousers crumpled in his arms.

“Aren’t you going to apologise?” Wesley’s voice drifted out of the kitchen.

Angel’s snort of denial was audible even on the staircase.


	4. Chapter 4

Spike had only been sitting on his mattress for a few minutes when someone knocked at the door. He inhaled through his nose to try and identify the person – it was Gunn. The knock came again and Spike stared at the door incredulously. Surely Gunn wasn’t waiting for Spike to tell him to enter? That would be the same as ordering Gunn to do something and Spike didn’t want to imagine the punishment that it would earn him from his sire.

 The knock sounded again and then the door slowly opened and Gunn stuck his head through cautiously.

“Can I come in?”

Spike bared his neck. “Of course, Master Gunn.”

Gunn sighed as he entered carrying a teapot and a mug. “So we’re back to that are we?”

Spike bit his lip nervously. This was the problem with having multiple masters, he’d never be able to please them all.”

“Not that I blame you.” Gunn continued. “Who knew Angel could be such a dick?”

Spike shook his head for a few seconds, before remembering who he was disagreeing with. Still, Angel’s response had been perfectly reasonably – merciful even, if Spike compared it to some of Angel’s past punishments for similar disrespect. Once, soon after Spike had been turned, Angel’s second oldest childe – Abel – had visited Darla’s court and Spike had made the mistake of forgetting to bare his neck to him. Angel hadn’t handled Spike’s punishment himself, instead he had allowed Abel to whip Spike for hours. Abel hadn’t stopped until his whip had removed every inch of skin on Spike’s back.

Gunn looking surprise. “Seriously? You don’t think he’s a dick? He just hit you for no reason.”

Spike stayed silent, unwilling to risk the wrath of either man.

“Anyway,” Gunn said after an awkward silence. “I brought you some blood, Angel’s orders.” He held out the teapot and mug.  

“Thank you, Master Gunn.” Spike said politely as he accepted the items.

Gunn grinned. “I can’t wait to see Cordelia’s face when she finds out Angel used her teapot to hold blood.”

Spike looked down at the teapot in trepidation – the last thing he needed was Cordelia mad at him too.

“Don’t worry about it.” Gunn told him, correctly reading his expression. “It was Angel’s idea, he can take the blame.”

Spike carefully set the teapot and mug on the mattress in front of him.

“I, uh,” Gunn started, suddenly unsure. “I wanted to say sorry, you know for hurting you. I still think you’re evil and that we should stake you, but that doesn’t mean that I want to torture you or anything. So, sorry. And if I ever tell you to do something like that again, that’s hurting you, you should tell me.”

                                                                            

Spike stared at him in shock, before remembering himself and lowering his eyes. How was he supposed to respond? He’d never had a master apologise to him before and his sire had never taught him any etiquette for the situation.

“Thank you, Master Gunn.” He replied eventually.

“Right.” Gunn nodded. “Well, enjoy your, uh, blood. Angel said he’d be sending you some every hour.”

Spike waited until Gunn had left the room before pulling on his trousers and pouring himself a mug of blood from the teapot. He couldn’t believe that he was allowed even more blood!

The next lot of blood was accompanied by Cordelia, who brought it up in a jug and scowled in disgust when she saw the bloody teapot. She didn’t say anything though, just stalked out of the room – teapot in hand.

By the time Wesley delivered his third serving of blood, Spike was feeling almost uncomfortably full. But he politely thanked the former watcher and accepted the teapot anyway. He expected Wesley to leave him alone, like the others had, but instead the man pulled up a chair and settled in it a few feet away from Spike’s mattress.

“Angel suggested that now might be a good time for me to ask you some more questions.” Wesley explained as he took a notepad and pen out of his jacket pocket. “Is that alright with you?”

Spike carefully poured himself a mug of blood. “Yes, Master Wesley.”

“Excellent.” Wesley looked down at his notepad. “Angel said that we’re all part of his court, but there isn’t much information about what a vampire court is.”

Spike waited for a specific question for a few seconds, before realising that was as good as he was going to get.

“A traditional vampire court is…” Spike paused as he tried to figure out how to explain it. “It’s the normal and traditional way for vampires to live in community. A court is always run by either a master or an ancient and can contain childer, minions, and other demons.”

“Other demons?” Wesley interrupted curiously.

“Yeah,” Spike nodded. “Take Fyarl demons for example, they make excellent guards. And sometimes, if the master is strong enough to take control of the city, the court will contain ambassadors from other demon clans.”

“Ambassadors.” Wesley repeated flatly. “Why?”

“Depends.” Spike shrugged. “If a vampire becomes master of city, then their law effects all the demons in the area, vampire or not. So demon clans will send ambassadors to court to keep them updated and to try and keep the master on their side.”

“I had no idea vampires were so organised.” Wesley commented.

Spike didn’t say anything.

Wesley looked back at his notebook and cleared his throat. “Has Angel ever had that kind of court? Most of mentions of him in the Watcher’s diaries involve him travelling with Darla.”

“Sire has never been The Master of the Court before.” Spike answered. “Mistress Darla was his sire and she ran the court. Sire, and Mistress Drusilla were masters in her court, just as you are a master in Sire’s court now.”

“What about Angel’s other childer?” Wesley asked.

Spike frowned slightly as he tried to remember what he had been told. “Master Penn became a master after forty years as a vampire, but he left Mistress Darla’s court the next year when Master Angel sired Master Abel. Master Abel had only been a fledgling for twenty four years when sire created Master Jareth and Master Silas.”

“He made two childer at the same time?” Wesley interrupted. “Is that normal?”

“I don’t think so.” Spike shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“So he had three childer at the same time?” Wesley asked. “That must have kept him busy.”

“Master Abel was still a fledgling when Mistress Drusilla was sired.” Spike told him. “So sire had four fledglings at once. Master Abel became a master after thirty seven years, but he didn’t leave court for another ten years. He acted as Mistress Darla’s enforcer.”

“But he had left by the time you were turned?” Wesley asked, his pencil moving swiftly as he took notes.

“Right.” Spike agreed. “But Master Abel visited sire often.”

“And Jareth and Silas?”

“Master Jareth was only a fledgling for thirty three years, but Master Silas took another two years to become a master.” Spike told him. “They didn’t get on with Mistress Darla and left to join Master Abel within a month of Master Silas becoming a master.”

“How long had you been a vampire when they left?” Wesley asked curiously.

“Six years.” Spike told him.

“So Drusilla was still a fledgling when you were sired too?”

“Yes,” Spike sighed. “She only became a master the year before Master Angel left.”

“And then she left Darla’s court too?” Wesley was still taking notes.

“Yes.” Spike grimaced as he remembered the months before Dru had decided that they were leaving. Darla had been a bitch. “Mistress Darla wanted to return to her sire’s court and Mistress Drusilla didn’t want to accompany her.”

“Why did she take you with her?” Wesley asked, his pen poised for Spike’s answer.

“Mistress Drusilla didn’t want any of sire’s older childer finding out what had happened and taking her under their wing.” Spike explained. “They were content to leave her alone so long as I was protecting her.”

“And they didn’t realise that you were a fledgling?” Wesley sounded disbelieving. “You’d only been a vampire for twenty years then, hadn’t you?”

“Mistress Drusilla managed to avoid them for ten years.” Spike explained. “Then she told them that she had helped me become a master.”

“Why didn’t she?” Wesley asked, leaning forward in interest. “You travelled with her for most of century, surely that should have been enough to make you a master.”

Spike shrugged. “Mistress Drusilla isn’t your typical master vampire.”

Wesley wrote in his notebook for a few minutes before standing up. “That’s enough for now I think. Have you finished the blood?”

Spike looked worriedly at the teapot that he had only drunken one mug of. “No, Master Wesley. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Wesley told him. “You should probably finish it before the next lot arrives though.”

Spike nodded obediently and poured himself a new mug of blood, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of being overfull. He supposed it was better than being hungry.

4-4-4

“There you are!” Cordelia’s strident tone made Angel wince. It was far too early in the morning for him to have to deal with Cordelia in a bad mood – he hadn’t even had a mug of blood yet.

“Cordelia.” Angel returned as he glared at the microwave. Why couldn’t it go faster?

“Where have you been?” Cordelia asked him. “It’s ten thirty. I was starting to think that Spike had staked you.”

“I told her it was stupid.” Gunn commented as he and Wesley entered the kitchen and hopped up onto the barstools. “I’m more worried about you beating him into a pulp.”

“Do you have any plans for him today?” Wesley asked. “There are a few more questions I’d like to ask him.”

“Oh no!” Cordelia protested. “You don’t get to distract him all day. He still hasn’t finished the filing from yesterday.”

“You mean the filing that is your job?” Wesley asked her. “The filing that you’ve ignored since we moved here? Surely it can wait a few more days.”

The microwave dinged and Angel replaced the mug of warm blood with a new one that needed to be heated. Then he took a large mouthful of warm blood and turned his attention to the humans who were still bickering amongst themselves.

“William will not be leaving my room today.” He announced.

“What?” Cordelia asked. “Why not?”

“You can’t keep him locked up there forever, Angel.” Gunn put in. “Won’t he get bored?”

“Not forever.” Angel denied. “Just until his knee has healed.”

“But why your room?” Gunn asked. “Couldn’t you find him a room of his own? Or at least a thicker mattress? Sleeping on that mattress would be like sleeping on the floor.”

Wesley looked surprised. “Since when have you been cared about a vampire’s comfort level?”

“Since I all but tortured him yesterday.” Gunn returned. “As though making the chip fire wasn’t bad enough the first time…”

“The first time?” Angel interrupted.

The humans all looked shamefaced.

“We wanted to ensure that it functioned correctly.” Wesley answered.

“It was horrible!” Cordelia added. “Gunn told Spike to punch him, but Spike’s fist didn’t even manage to touch him before he ended up on the floor screaming.”

“It works effectively then?” Angel asked nonchalantly.

Wesley gave him a funny look. “Aren’t you upset that we hurt your childe?”

Angel frowned in confusion. “Why would I be? I made you masters of my Court.”

“But he’s your childe!” Cordelia protested. “Yesterday you gave us a big speech about how much you care for your children or whatever.”

“And I do.” Angel agreed. “But William is a fledgling and it is well within your rights to test him or punish him.”

Gunn, Wesley and Cordelia all shared an unhappy look.

“Is this another one of those vampire things?” Gunn asked eventually. “Torturing each other for no reason?”

Angel was confused again. “You said that you wanted to test the chip?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then it wasn’t for no reason.” Angel pointed out simply, before drinking the last of the blood in his mug

The three humans exchanged a look again and Angel retrieved the mug of newly warmed blood from the microwave

“Alright,” Gunn shook his head. “Ignoring that for now, don’t you think it’s a little cruel to make Spike sit on the little mattress until his knee heals?”

Angel chuckled darkly. “No, cruel would be hanging him from the ceiling by his wrists until his knee healed.”

“Angel!” Cordelia all but shrieked. “That’s awful.”

“Which is why he is sitting on a mattress.” Angel explained slowly.

“Oh,” Cordelia paused. “But you wouldn’t actually do that to him would you?”

Angel pointed at himself. “Vampire.”

“With a soul!” Cordelia countered passionately.

“But still a vampire.” Angel sighed. “I told you guys yesterday that William’s presence here would mean that I’d be acting more like a vampire.”

“I know.” Cordelia acknowledged. “But I didn’t think that meant you’d be hanging people from ceilings.”

“I’m not.” Angel reminded her. “He’s sitting upstairs.”

“So are you expecting us to deliver him his blood again?” Gunn asked. “Because I have things I need to do.”

“I’m happy to take him blood.” Wesley commented. “It will give me the opportunity to ask him some more questions.”

“He shouldn’t need as much blood today.” Angel told them. “And I can take it up to him. You could take him some now though if you wanted, Wesley.”

“Wonderful.” Wesley stood up and moved into the kitchen.

“Don’t use my teapot!” Cordelia told him quickly.

4-4-4

The next few days went by slowly. Spike was still restricted to his mattress and the only times that Angel allowed him to stand up was for his morning canings. Angel and the humans continued to deliver him blood and the humans asked him embarrassingly unsubtle questions about whether he or not he thought Angel was being unreasonably cruel. Spike tried to tell them that Angel was actually being disturbingly nice, but they never seemed particularly convinced.

With a steady supply of human blood and the prescribed bedrest, Spike’s knee began to heal and after three days it barely hurt at all. It took another two days for Angel to let him up though, and by that time Spike was bored out of his mind! He’d even started looking forward to the times when Wesley visited him and asked question after question.

On the sixth day, Angel woke up and immediately ordered Spike to have a shower. It took Spike a few seconds to convince himself that he hadn’t imagined the order and then he scrambled to his feet in excitement and all but ran for the bathroom.

Angel was waiting for him when Spike returned from the shower and, judging by his sire’s wet hair, Spike guessed that he had used another shower. Angel was standing near Spike’s mattress and frowning at the blanket that Spike had left crumpled on the bed.

Spike’s heart sunk to his stomach. How could he have forgotten to fold the blanket before leaving the mattress? Admittedly he had been excited to finally be allowed a shower, but that was no excuse to forget one of his sire’s rules.

Angel shifted his attention to Spike and Spike could feel his whole body flushing in embarrassment. Despite the many times that Angel had used Spike’s compulsive modesty to humiliate him, Spike still hated to be naked in front of people.

Spike shifted uncomfortably as Angel continued to stare silently and then froze when Angel growled at him. Bloody hell! What was wrong with him? That was two of Angel’s rules he had broken in less than two minutes, was he trying to get himself beaten into a bloody pulp?

“Against the wall, childe.” Angel growled and Spike obeyed quickly – bracing himself against the wall as Angel had taught him to when he had first been sired.

There was a pause as Angel stalked across the room to stand behind him, then Spike heard the sound of the cane swishing through the air and then felt the cane impact against his back. Spike grimaced as pain erupted across his back.

It was hardly the worst beating that Spike had received from his sire, but it was definitely the worst one he had received in the last hundred years and by the time Angel was finished Spike could smell his own blood from where was dripping down his back.

Eventually Angel lowered the cane and then stepped forward and bit down into Spike’s neck. By the time Angel released him, Spike was beginning to feel faint and was glad for the wall to brace himself again.

“Get dressed.” Angel ordered coolly. “Wear something dark.”

“Yes, sire.” Spike stepped away from the wall and tried to ignore the way the room was swimming. It was strange how quickly his body had adjusted to being properly fed. Spike had spent almost a year with less blood running through his system than this and, while he’d felt weak, dizziness hadn’t been a problem after the first month.

Aware that his sire was waiting for him, Spike pulled on the black trousers, shirt and cardigan that Angel had bought him. At the time he had wondered why Angel had bothered buying black when all the other colours were soft and unassuming – now it made sense. Black clothing didn’t show blood stains.

When Spike was dressed, and had carefully folded the blanket on his mattress, he followed his sire down the stairs and took the opportunity to test his pain levels. His back definitely hurt, especially when he flexed his shoulders or twisted, but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as his chip firing.

The humans were already in the kitchen, sitting on the barstools with drinks, and Spike bared his neck towards them as he entered. They all seemed to observe him carefully.

“You’re late again.” Gunn commented.

“William and I had some business we needed to attend to.” Angel answered evenly. “Heat me a bag of blood, childe.”

Spike quickly moved into action, taking a bag of blood from the fridge and pouring half of it into a mug. It was nice to be able to move around again, and to be able to do so without his knee hurting, but he was still feeling faint from the lack of blood.

“What kind of business?” Gunn sounded suspicious.

Angel was silent for a few seconds. “You don’t want to know.”

“Ewww!” Cordelia sounded horrified. “You weren’t having sex were you?”

“No.” Angel answered quickly. “Definitely not. I have never been interesting in William that way.”

“But it’s not unheard of, is it?” Wesley commented. “Yesterday Spike was telling me that sire’s often have sexual intercourse with their childer.”

“Sexual intercourse?” Gunn sounded amused. “Why can’t you just say sex?”

“No,” Angel answered. “It’s not unheard of. I had a sexual relationship with both Darla and Drusilla.”

“So it’s because he’s a guy then?” Gunn asked.

“Yes.” Angel answered firmly. “I have never been attracted to men.”

“Okay then.” Cordelia sounded relieved. “So you and Spike won’t be having sex then?”

“No.” Angel answered again. “So, Wesley, you asked William about sex?”

Wesley made a spluttering sound. “I asked him about the components of a sire/childe relationship. He was the one who mentioned sex.”

The microwave binged, and Spike retrieved the mug of blood and moved to stand near his sire’s elbow.

“Thank you, childe.” Angel murmured as he took the blood.

Spike almost sighed in relief at the evidence that his sire had forgiven him. He returned to the microwave and put a second mug of blood in the microwave. If Angel had forgiven him that meant his sire would probably allow him to have some blood.

“So what are we doing today?” Gunn asked.

“William and I are going out.” Angel answered. “We should be back by lunchtime.”

Spike whipped his head around to stare at his sire’s back. They were going out during daylight? Why?

“Where are you going?” Wesley asked curiously.

“I’ve arranged for us to meet with one of the local covens.” Angel answered. “I want to know more about whatever spell Drusilla cast on William.”

Spike grimaced as he turned his gaze back to the microwave. He hated witches!

“Can Spike help me with the filing after lunch?” Cordelia asked.

“Don’t you mean do it for you?” Wesley sounded amused.

“That’s fine.” Angel agreed. “I need to talk to guys later, so he can do it then.”

The microwave dinged and Spike passed the mug of warn blood to his sire again.

Angel accepted the mug. “Thank you, childe. You may warm yourself up some blood as well. As much as you need.”

“Thank you, sire.” Spike murmured gratefully.


	5. Chapter 5

It was almost eleven in the morning by the time Angel led William out of the hotel through the tunnels towards the coven’s meeting place. There were four covens in LA, which wasn’t a surprise given the size of the city, and Angel had asked The Host for advice about which coven to contact. Not all covens were friendly to vampires. After having talked to The Host, Angel was glad that he had asked. Apparently two out of the four covens had been known to attack vampires on sight, and the third charged vampires a fortune. The fourth coven was apparently much more reasonable and actually had a few vampire members.

Angel could smell William’s fear as they walked and wondered what had happened to his childe to make him so afraid of witches. Angel’s best guess was that Drusilla was to blame, William had already admitted that Drusilla had cast one major spell on him.

They made it to the coven’s meeting place in good time and were met at the underground entrance by a female vampire with red hair.

“Master Angelus of the Line of Aurelius?”

“Yes.” Angel acknowledged.

“Welcome.” The woman bared her throat slightly. “I am Penelope.”

Angel observed the woman with interest. She was clearly a master, though not a very old one and not from any important bloodline – her introduction had given that away. She did seem to have a good grasp of the proper etiquette none the less. Or at least a basic understanding, Angel corrected himself when he noticed her staring at William who was standing submissively a step behind Angel and to his left.

“My fledgling childe William.” Angel explained coolly. Perhaps it was because he worked with humans who wouldn’t know vampire etiquette if it bit them, but he always found himself unreasonably disappointed when he interacted with vampires who didn’t behave with the proper etiquette. Not that he interacted with many vampires except to dust them.

Penelope shifted her eyes away from William and bared her neck again, apparently recognising that she had done something wrong.

“If you would follow me, Master Angelus.”

Angel followed her up into the building and then into a room where eleven witches, including another vampire, were sitting on couches that had been arranged in a circle.

“This is Master Angelus of the Aurelius Line and his fledgling childe William.” Penelope introduced them to the group.

“Master Angelus.” The other vampire in the coven stood up and bared his throat slightly as Penelope had done. “Greetings. I am Master Edmund of the Line of Faustina.”

Angel nodded in acknowledgement even as he observed the vampire in interest. While at least a century younger than himself, Edmund was definitely over a hundred years old and from a line almost as old and notorious as the Line of Aurelius.

Edmund continued. “Allow me to introduce you to Miranda, the leader of our coven.”

Angel turned his attention to the grey haired woman that Edmund had gestured towards. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

“We were intrigued by your message.” Miranda told him. “We have never met an ensouled vampire before.”

“Though we had certainly heard about you.” Another of the women commented with a smirk.

“Have a seat and we can get started.” Miranda instructed him, gesturing to the two empty chairs across from her.

Angel moved to sit in the nearest chair and was pleased when William remembered his etiquette and moved to stand behind his chair.

“Your childe won’t sit?” One of two human men in the circle asked.

“No.” Angel answered flatly.

“Leave them alone, Peter.” Edmund chided. “You act as though you have never seen a master with his fledgling before.”

“At least he isn’t making the poor dear kneel.” The oldest woman in the room commented so quietly that only the vampires in the room heard her.

Edmund gave Angel an apologetic look.

“Would you like a drink, Master Angelus?” Penelope asked.

“No, thank you.” Angel answered politely.

Penelope shifted her attention to William. “Would you, William?”

Angel growled quietly enough that only the vampires would hear it. “He’s fine.”

“Sit down, Penelope.” Miranda instructed the vampire. “Now, Master Angelus, how can we help you?”

“I have two matters with which I am hoping for your assistance.” Angel started. “Firstly, when I was originally ensouled, a century ago, I left my sire’s court and left behind two of my childer. Drusilla, who had only recently become a master vampire, and William who was still a fledging.”

“But that would make him older than me!” Penelope interrupted him.

“Quiet, Penelope.” Edmund reprimanded her.

“Drusilla did not get along well with my sire and so left a few months later.” Angel continued. “Drusilla is completely addled and she feared, rightly I’m sure, that if my older childer heard that she was travelling alone they would insist that she travel with them, because of this she took William with her. But William was of no use to her as a fledgling so she did some kind of spell to make him behave, and appear, as though he was a master.”

“Goodness.” A brunette to Angel’s left commented. “That’s certainly unusual.”

“Yes.” Angel agreed. “William obeyed her of course and they travelled together for almost a full century. I met up with them again two and a half years ago and not even I could tell that William was still a fledgling. I presumed that Drusilla had taken over as his sire and had helped him become a master. The spell that Drusilla had cast on William was still active and he fought with me and even tortured me a few times.”

“Obviously that is no longer a problem.” Miranda commented her gaze flicking towards where William was standing.

“No, earlier this week William approached me and asked to rejoin my court.” Angel continued. “At that point I realised that he was still a fledgling and have accepted him. I am, however, curious about the spell that Drusilla used and why it seems to have disappeared. I would also like to make sure that there are no lingering effects of the spell.”

“Certainly.” Miranda nodded. “As to why the spell has disappeared, it is not unusual for a spell to fade away after a certain amount of time. The amount of time is usually related to the strength of the original caster. You said there were two things?”

“Is there somewhere my childe can wait while I discuss it with you?” Angel asked and he felt William shift nervously behind him.

“I can take him out.” Edmund offered. “With your permission I will use the time to question him about what he remembers about the original spell.”

Angel nodded in agreement. “Alright.”

Once William had followed the older vampire out of the room, Angel turned his attention back to Miranda.

“As I mentioned before, it has been just over a hundred years since I was originally cursed with a soul.” Angel told her. “The curse left me wracked with guilt regarding my past actions. I despised my vampire heritage and was basically a human in a vampire’s body. However, I lost my soul a few years ago and when I was cursed with my soul again the spell was slightly different. While I do feel guilt for the many lives I have destroyed, the guilt does not consume me, and I have been able to embrace my vampire nature, albeit to a lesser degree. I am basically a vampire with a conscious.”

“Fascinating.” The brunette breathed.

“You do not want us to remove the curse, I hope.” Miranda commented neutrally.

“No,” Angel shook his head. “I want to extend it to my childer.”

5-5-5

Spike hated witches! He hated witches and magic and spells and most of all, he hated the idea of a coven worth of witches using magic to cast a spell on him! But he was Angel’s fledgling and the wounds on his back from his punishment that morning were definitely enough to keep him on his best behaviour. Still it didn’t stop him from wanting to cower behind Angel when the female vampire witch met them at the entrance to the building.

Spike had never been so glad for the etiquette that Angel had always insisted on. It was wonderful to not have to talk to the witches and to know that Angel would protect him. Well, at least it was until Angel sent him out of the room with a master vampire witch.

Master Edmund questioned him about everything he could remember about Drusilla casting the spell, as well as everything he could remember from the last few months that might have had something to do with the spell wearing off. Spike answered as politely as possible, he could still remember the spells that Drusilla had used to punish him when he had upset her. He really didn’t want to piss off this master vampire and end up blind for the next week.

After about ten minutes, one of the witches called them back into the room and Angel instructed Spike to stand in the middle of the circle of chairs and couches. Spike obeyed, but not without considering running in the opposite direction. Bloody hell! He hated witches!

“It would be best if he was to kneel, Master Angelus.” Miranda, the lead witch, said.

“Kneel, William.” Angel ordered, and Spike obeyed immediately.

The witches all stood up and stood in a circle around him before beginning to chant. Spike clenched his eyes shut and waited for it to be over.

After a few minutes the chanting stopped and Miranda spoke again. “The spell is certainly weakened, but it still remains. Would you like us to remove it?”

“Yes.” Angel answered shortly.

Spike bit his tongue to keep himself from protesting. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the spell gone, he did, he just wanted to get away from the witches as soon as possible.

“Very well.” Miranda agreed and then the chanting started again.

At first Spike didn’t feel anything, but then pain suddenly struck and he couldn’t help but scream. It was like his chip was firing, except the pain was all over his body rather than just in his head. Spike couldn’t hold himself upright anymore and collapsed on his side, even as he continued screaming. Eventually, the pain vanished just as quickly as it had started and Spike was left panting on the floor. Which was embarrassing because vampires weren’t supposed to breathe.

He took a quick inventory of his body and realised that he didn’t really feel much different. Which made sense since the spell had been weakened to begin with. William pulled himself back onto his knees and froze suddenly as he realised what the difference was – he felt like William again. He wasn’t Spike, Spike had been Drusilla’s invention, he was William, fledgling childe of Angel and it felt normal. The whispering voice in his head that he hadn’t even realised was there, the one telling him that he should rebel against his sire, was gone and all that was left was William.

5-5-5

Cordelia sighed and twirled her pen around in boredom – she had nothing to do. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She could do some filing, but why bother when Spike could come back and do it for her? She stood up and began to walk towards the kitchen, it was time for another cup of coffee.

She was halfway to the kitchen when the phone began to ring and she wasn’t sure whether she was excited that she finally had something to do, or frustrated at the terribly timing. Couldn’t the phone have rung before she’d decided to get coffee? Or after she had made it?

“Good morning, you’ve reached Angel Investigations. We help the helpless. Cordelia speaking.”

“Cordelia?” The voice on the other ended was annoyingly familiar. “You answer the phones now?”

“Xander?” Cordelia sighed. “What do you want?”

“What?” Xander sounded amused. “No, how are you? No offer to help? What kind of customer service is that?”

Cordelia scowled. “Xander!”

“Alright, alright.” Xander chuckled. “Is Angel there?”

“No.”

There was a pause and then, “Well, do you know when he’s coming back?”

“He said he’d be back around lunch.” Cordelia answered grudgingly. “So anytime now.”

“Okay,” Xander paused again. “Alright, I’m just going to come straight out and ask. Have you guys seen Spike recently?”

“Yes.” Cordelia snapped. “Angel’s letting him live here can you believe it? I’m working in the same building as a sadistic serial killer!”

“Oh good.” Xander’s sigh was audible. “And weren’t you already working in the same building as a sadistic serial killer?”

“Angel has a soul!” Cordelia reminded him.

“And Spike has a chip.” Xander returned. “He’s even less capable of serial killing than Angel is.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to.” Cordelia reminded him.

“And you don’t think that Angel never dreams of drinking some poor human’s blood?” Xander asked him. “Just because he’s got a soul doesn’t make him perfect.”

Cordelia frowned. “The point is, that Angel chooses not to hurt humans, Spike would hurt them if he could.”

“Angel only chooses not to hurt humans because someone forced a soul on him.” Xander countered. “Spike only chooses not to hurt humans because forced a chip on him, I’m not seeing a difference there.”

Cordelia honestly didn’t know how to respond to that and, as much as that infuriated her, it did remind her how much she missed Xander. Nobody could quite get her blood pumping like he did, even if he was a big cheating jerk!

“So Spike’s alright then?” Xander asked after a moment of silence.

“Yes,” Cordelia answered. “He was pretty beaten up when he got here, Wesley says that his kneecap was broken, but we’ve been feeding him a lot and Angel’s been making him rest. He seems fine now.”

“And he’s going to be staying with you guys?” Xander asked.

“Do I hear concern in your voice, Xander Harris?” Cordelia asked in disbelief. “Concern for a vampire?”

“Spike’s not all that bad.” Xander didn’t even sound defensive about it. “And he’s had a pretty rough time of it recently. I did what I could to help, but…”

“You’re still living in your parents’ basement and can’t hold down a job?” Cordelia finished for him.

“Yeah.” Xander answered sounding defeated. “I’m glad he’s with you guys now, look after him.”

Cordelia felt bad. “You could always come visit him?”

There was a long pause and when Xander replied he sounded like himself again. “Did you just invite me over, Cordelia Chase?”

“Not to see me!” Cordelia pointed out quickly. “To see Spike, since you seem so worried about him.”

“I’ll see.” Xander commented. “Tell Spike I said hi and that I’m glad he’s okay.”

“I will.” Cordelia promised. “Take care of yourself, Xander.”

“You too, Cordy.” Xander answered, but he was sounding defeated again.

Cordelia hung up the phone and stared at it for a while. What were the Scoobies doing to him? Xander had always had such spark, things must be pretty bad for him to be sounding so tired and defeated. Cordelia stood up and made her way into the kitchen to turn on the jug. She couldn’t imagine trying to hold down a job and chasing after vampires and demons with Angel. No wonder Xander was having such a hard time of it.

She was just pouring the hot water into her mug when Angel came through the door, Spike trailing behind him.

“Would you like a drink, Angel?” Cordelia offered even as she stirred the coffee into her own mug.

“William will get it for me.” Angel told her, sitting on one of the barstool. “A mug of blood for each of us, childe.”

Spike bared his neck towards Angel and then made his way to the fridge to get out the blood. On his way to the fridge he walked past Cordelia and bared his throat again, this time in her direction.

Cordelia ignored him, choosing instead to perch on the barstool beside Angel.

“How did it go?”

“Good.” Angel answered. “Apparently some of Drusilla’s spell was still affecting William, so they removed it.”

Cordelia studied Spike carefully. “What does that mean?”

“It means you should probably start calling him William.” Angel told her. “He told me that he doesn’t feel like Spike anymore.”

Cordelia considered that. “I suppose I could do that. By the way, Xander rang today.”

William had been staring at the microwave, waiting for Angel’s blood to heat up, but at Cordelia’s words he turned towards her.

“Xander Harris?” Angel asked in confusion. “Why?”

“He was worried about Spike, I mean William.” Cordelia explained. “I guess they got to know each other a bit last year. He said to tell William that he says hi and that he’s glad he’s okay.”

The microwave binged and William carried the mug of blood over to Angel.

“Thank you, childe.” Angel told him. “What is this about you and Xander?”

William looked nervous. “I stayed with him for a while, sire, and we talked sometimes. We kept talking even when I moved out and sometimes he bought me some extra blood.”

“Really?” Angel sounded surprised. “Xander?”

“I know.” Cordelia agreed. “Who knew he was capable of being nice to vampires.”

“Certainly not me.” Angel commented dryly, he turned to Spike. “Go warm up your blood, childe.”

“Oh, and I invited him to come visit.” Cordelia told Angel. “To see Spike, since he was so worried.”

“And is he coming?” Angel asked, Spike seemed to be interested too.

“I don’t know.” Cordelia shrugged. “He said he would think about it.”

5-5-5

Angel tried not to grimace at the thought of Xander coming to Los Angeles. Ever since they’d met, the lad had gone out of his way to insult Angel at every opportunity. Though even that hadn’t been enough to stop Angel from admiring the lad. If it hadn’t been for Angel’s soul, he would have turned Xander in a heartbeat – the lad would make a wonderful vampire.

“So can Spike help me with the filing now?” Cordelia asked. “You did say he could help me after lunch.”

“Have you had lunch already?” Angel asked in surprise. The kitchen didn’t have any of the smells that it usually had after Cordelia, or the other humans, had eaten.

“Well, no.” Cordelia admitted. “But Spike has.”

“William.” Angel corrected.

Cordelia looked annoyed. “Alright, William then.”

Angel looked over to his childe who was standing near the sink, having already washed the mug he had drunken from. “Fine. Where are Wesley and Gunn?”

“They’re picking up lunch.” Cordelia explained. “They should be back soon. Why?”

“I want us to talk about what William will be doing.” Angel explained.

Cordelia narrowed her eyes. “There won’t be any gross stuff, will there? Because if there is, we are not talking about it over lunch!”

“Nothing gross.” Angel promised.

“Fine.” Cordelia agreed. “I’ll put Sp…William to work and meet you in the office. Come on, blondie.”

William bared his neck at Angel, as he followed Cordelia out of the room – his expression properly submissive. Angel watched in satisfaction – this was the childe he remembered. William had always been eager to please and it horrified Angel to think about what Drusilla had done to him. If Angel ever got his hands on her he would make her regret it.

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Well, Angel?” Cordelia prompted once Gunn and Wesley had passed her the salad they had bought her and sat down. “We’re all here.”

“Yes.” Angel agreed. He was sitting in the most formal chair in the room, an antique wooden armchair that they had purchased with the hotel, and looked every inch of the Master of the Court that he apparently was. Not that Cordelia knew what a ‘Master of the Court’ was supposed to look like, but it she had to guess – then Angel would be it.

It was strange to see Angel so intimidating, and she wasn’t sure whether it was Angel who had changed or her perspective. A week ago she had thought the vampire to be a dark broody presence sure, but now he looked intimidating and master-esque. She wasn’t sure what she thought about it, but she knew that it was all Spike’s fault.

“How did your meeting with coven go this morning?” Wesley asked Angel, his own lunch – a sandwich of some kind – sitting untouched on the table beside him.

 “They were able to completely remove the spell that Drusilla cast on William.” Angel answered.

“The spell still remained?” Wesley asked. “I presumed that it was already gone. Why else would his behaviour have changed so significantly?”

“It had degraded.” Angel explained. “The coven believes that it was partly due to the number of years since Drusilla cast the spell and partly due to William having been systematically starved over the last year.”

“Starved?!” Cordelia asked in horror. Sure Spike was evil, but starving him was just cruel. “Who would have starved him?”

“Giles.” Angel growled. “William’s chip made him unable to hunt and he was forced to depend on the watcher for blood. Giles only gave him three bags of blood every week!”

“Three bags?” Cordelia repeated. “But you drink more than that a day!”

Angel nodded sharply. “The lack of blood caused Drusilla’s spell to degrade faster than it otherwise would have.”

“So that’s why he’s been acting so weird?” Gunn asked. “Does that mean that he’ll be acting even weirder now that the spell is gone?”

“He hasn’t been acting weird.” Angel scowled. “He’s been behaving exactly how a fledgling in my court ought to behave.”

“So if he was a fledgling in another court, different behaviour would be expected of him?” Wesley asked curiously and Cordelia had to refrain herself from rolling her eyes. Did the man’s curiosity never take a break?

“There would be some differences.” Angel answered patiently. “But much of it would be the same.”

“Anyway.” Cordelia said loudly. “Angel, you said you wanted to talk to us?”

“Yes.” Angel agreed. “We need to discuss what William will do to contribute.”

Cordelia exchanged a glance with Gunn and Wesley, both of whom looked just as confused as she felt.

“What sort of contribution do you mean?” Wesley asked.

“Yeah, it’s not like he fight or anything.” Gunn added.

“The chip doesn’t prevent William from fighting demons.” Angel reminded them.

“Yeah, but have you seen the guy recently?” Gunn asked. “He’s like a doormat. I doubt he’d even defend himself if attacked, let alone try and kill a demon.”

Angel looked annoyed. “Just because my childe respects the members of my court, doesn’t mean he is unable to fight.”

“Angel, he wouldn’t say boo to a ghost.” Gunn argued.

“He would if I told him to.” Angel retorted darkly.

Cordelia thought that it was probably time for her to intervene. “Right, so we know that he could help us in fight if we needed him. What else could he do?”

“Other than your filing you mean?” Wesley asked with a teasing tone.

“Obviously.” Cordelia answered in her most snooty tone.

“What would he usually do?” Gunn asked. “You know, if this was a normal court.”

“He would spend his time with me.” Angel answered.

“But doing what?” Gunn persisted.

Angel studied them, as though he was trying to decide whether or not they could handle the answer. “He would act as my body slave.”

“Slave?!” Cordelia asked in horror.

“But I thought your childer were like your children?” Wesley sounded confused.

Angel sighed. “They are.”

“Then why would you make them slaves?” Gunn looked just as horrified as Cordelia felt.

Angel rubbed his forehead. “He wouldn’t actually be my slave.”

“Then what did you mean?” Cordelia asked.

“He would attend me at all times,” Angel sounded frustrated. “He would be responsible for performing any task I gave him.”

“Like when he heats up your blood for you?” Gunn asked.

“Yes,” Angel looked relieved. “Exactly. Or if I wanted something, he would go and get if for me.”

“So basically he would follow you around and do whatever you told him to do.” Wesley surmised.

 “Couldn’t he just do that here?” Cordelia asked.

“He could.” Angel agreed. “But there are more useful things he could do.”

“Like Cordelia’s filing?” Wesley looked amused.

Angel rolled his eyes. “Among other things.”

“Like what?” Gunn sounded frustrated. “Come on, man, you obviously have some ideas about what he could do.”

“He could stay in the foyer and act as a guard.” Angel suggested. “He could provide meals for you, he could clean the weapons…”

“So basically, he could do whatever we wanted him to?” Cordelia asked. “So instead of being your minion, he could be the minion for all of us?” As weird and uncomfortable as she was finding the whole ‘fledgling’ situation, there was something thrilling to think about having someone at her beck and call.

“Isn’t he already our ‘minion’?” Wesley asked. “Angel told us last week that Spike will obey any command that we give him.”

“How do we know we can trust him?” Gunn asked. “He’s a vampire!”

“So am I.” Angel reminded him.            

“Yeah, but you’re a good vampire.” Gunn answered. “You’ve got a soul. Spike doesn’t.”

“William,” Angel emphasised the name. “Is loyal to my court.”

“So you’re saying that if we stuck him in the foyer for the day and told him to guard it, he wouldn’t let anyone in who might hurt us?” Gunn asked doubtfully.

“William would die before failing to protect us.” Angel told him firmly.

“Huh.” Cordelia had to admit, even if only to herself, that she didn’t find the idea of William dying nearly as pleasurable as she would have the week before.

Damn that vampire – he was growing on her.

6-6-6

The sound of Mistress Cordelia’s footsteps had William looking around the room worriedly – while it was definitely tidier than it had been before, it was a long way from perfect. He had done his best, but there were an awful lot of papers and he hadn’t even managed to file half of them.

“What are you doing?” Mistress Cordelia’s voice asked in surprise.

William hurriedly jumped to his feet and bared his neck. “ ‘m sorry, Mistress Cordelia.”

Mistress Cordelia wave a hand dismissively. “What were you doing on the floor?”

William’s stomach dropped. Why was she upset? “I was filing, Mistress Cordelia.”

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously, but why were you doing it on the floor? There’s a desk right there!”

“I’m sorry.” William said helplessly. What had he done wrong?

Mistress Cordelia looked annoyed. “That doesn’t answer my question. Why were you on the floor?”

“Did you give him permission to use the chair?” Master Angel’s voice made William flinch.

“What?” Mistress Cordelia put her hands on her hips and spun around, presumably to face Master Angel – who William couldn’t see. “Why would I need to do that?”

“William knows better than to use furniture without permission.” Master Angel told her.

William wasn’t sure what he should do. Should he continue to stand, waiting to be addressed again? Or should he go back to filing?

“Angel, that’s horrible!” Mistress Cordelia’s voice was shrill. “How could you do that?”

“Vampire.” Master Angel replied dryly.

Mistress Cordelia spun around and narrowed her eyes at William. “From now on, you can always use the chair while you’re filing.” She said, before stalking away.

William stood frozen, unsure what to do, until he heard his sire leave as well, then he hurriedly picked up the files he’d been looking through and put them on the desk. There was no way he was going to risk Mistress Cordelia’s anger if she found him working on the floor again.

6-6-6

It was eleven in the evening, after Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn had eventually left, that Angel remembered that he hadn’t seem William in a while. In fact, he hadn’t seen him for ten hours, not since William had obediently followed Cordelia out of the kitchen to do some filing. It wasn’t that Angel had meant to leave William there for so long, and he was sure Cordelia hadn’t meant to either, but the Powers That Be had sent Cordelia a vision and Angel had spent the majority of his afternoon trying to stop a demon ritual from taking place.

Angel made his way towards to office where William was working and, once there, leaned against the doorframe. William had obviously heard him coming, because he was standing behind the desk that was covered in piles of paper with his neck bared towards Angel.

“You’re done for the day.” Angel told him. “Do you need to tidy anything up?”

William looked nervous. “Yes, sire.”

“I will wait for you in the kitchen.” Angel decided. “Do not keep me waiting.”

He pushed himself off the doorframe and made his way into the kitchen, before taking a seat on one of the barstools. For a moment he considered warming himself up a mug of blood, but decided against it. William could do it when he arrived.

Angel sighed and rubbed his forehead. It had been a long day. Had it only been that morning that he and William had visited the Coven? It felt as though it had been days before. He wished it had been days before. The Coven had promised to look into his request for his curse to be expanded to include his childer and give him an answer in a week. Angel didn’t want to wait a week!

William entered the room cautiously, his neck bared as was proper, and moved to stand submissively in front of Angel.

“Warm me some blood.” Angel ordered him, watching as his childe bared his neck in obeisance before going about his task.

William had been the reason Angel had first considered expanding the curse. He hated to see his childe so crippled, but at the same time knew that removing it would force him to either stake his childe or be at least partly responsible for the murders that William would commit – if not now, then certainly when he became a master. At first the idea had been a whimsical one, where he’d absently wished that his childe also had a soul. But the more he had thought about it, the more he’d liked the idea, and the more the idea had grown.

He could easily find a witch to curse William with a soul, but he didn’t want to risk William becoming the guilt-ridden mess that Angel had been after the gypsy spell. He wanted William to be cursed in the same way that Willow had cursed him.

On top of all that, having William around had made Angel realise just how lonely he was without his childer around. He loved his friends, but they weren’t vampires and they didn’t understand him. He missed his childer and, while he had staked Penn, maybe it wasn’t too late for the rest of them.

“Sire,” William drew his attention to the mug of blood that he had place on the counter in front of Angel.

Angel looked at the mug and then back at his childe. “Drink it.”

William looked confused, but he obediently picked up the mug and quickly drained it. Once William had place the mug back on the bench, Angel grabbed his childe by the hair and, wrenching his head to the side, sunk his teeth into his neck. William’s blood was heavenly and it reminded Angel of the decades he had spent drinking only from his childer. He’d still tortured and killed humans of course, but only for sport or to feed his childer. Human blood, while significantly more appetizing and nourishing than animal blood, was nothing compared to drinking the blood of vampires of his line.

Angel drank until he was full and then withdrew his teeth from his childe’s neck – taking the time to lick over the puncture wound to halt the blood flow. Not that his childe had much blood left. William swayed on his feet, but remained standing – his neck bared as it had been when Angel was drinking.

“Warm yourself some blood.” Angel told him gently, sated to the point of being mellow. Perhaps he ought to go back to only drinking his childe’s blood – though he doubted the humans in his court would approve.

It took five minutes for William to drink his full in blood, while Angel waited patiently on the barstool. Once William was finished, they made their way up to Angel’s bedroom. Once there, William quickly changed into his sleeping clothes and sat himself on his mattress. Angel undressed in a more sedate manner, still feeling delightfully mellow.

Once changed, Angel switched off the light and climbed into bed. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, enjoying the scent of his childe as he had every night since William had returned. It was wonderful to have William in his court again.

6-6-6

At first William wasn’t sure what had woken him and then smelt it – there was a human in the room. A human who wasn’t a member of his sire’s court. There was something vaguely familiar about the human’s scent, though William couldn’t figure out where he knew it from.

He opened his eyes and, as surreptitiously as possible, scanned the room for the human. When he spotted the woman sitting astride his sire, William felt a rush of panic. Why hadn’t his sire woken up? Had the woman drugged or cursed him? And most importantly, why did she have to be human?!

William watched the woman for a few seconds, trying to work up the courage to do what he knew he had to do. Defenceless or not, he had to confront the woman. At the very least the time it would take the woman to stake him would give his sire time to wake up from whatever kind of forced sleep he was in.

He stood quickly and stepped towards the woman. “Oi!”

The woman twisted around in obvious surprise, but the sight of her face had William stumbling backwards. It was Mistress Darla!

“William?” Mistress Darla’s expression darkened. “What are you doing here?”

William bared his neck to her quickly. “I am serving my sire, Mistress.”

Mistress Darla scowled as she climbed off Master Angel and moved to stand directly in front of William. “I had heard that you were a master. You must be the oldest fledgling alive.”

William stayed quiet, desperately trying to control his fear. Mistress Darla had always terrified him, that was one of the reasons he’d been so pleased to hear that his sire had staked her. Wait, if Master Angel had staked her, why was she here? And, just as importantly, why was she human?

“What were you doing to Master Angel?” William asked worriedly. Was she trying to take revenge for Master Angel having staked her?

Darla’s hand struck William’s left cheek. “You dare question me?”

William stepped back, swallowing nervously when his back hit the wall. “You’re human.”

Darla snarled at him. “I am still your grandsire, William.”

William fought the urge to bare his neck. She was neither a master vampire, nor a member of his sire’s court – he didn’t need to pay her any obeisance.

“My grandsire is dead.” William contradicted her weakly. “My sire staked her three years ago.”

“And yet here I am.” Darla smirked darkly. “Now get on your knees and shut your mouth!”

William’s knees buckled, but he used the wall to keep himself upright. Even if she was his grandsire, the fact that Master Angel had staked her probably meant that William wasn’t expected to respect her – particularly if she was trying to hurt his sire.

“Why won’t Master Angel wake up?” William asked her stubbornly, before falling to one knee when she kicked him solidly in the leg.

“Shut your mouth, you worthless excuse for a fledgling!” Darla hissed.

William attempted to climb back to his feet, only to freeze when Darla grabbed him around the throat with one hand and placed the point of a stake over his heart

“You always were an annoying fledgling.” Darla told him venomously. “I can’t count the number of times I considered staking you, but Angel would have been upset. I don’t need to worry about that now though, do I?”

William’s stomach dropped in horror. He tried to consider his options, but his terror was making it hard to think. He could push her off him, he was stronger than her, but she was human and it would trigger his chip. Which would leave him in the exact same predicament – only with an added headache.

 “Please, Mistress Darla…”

“Oh, no,” Darla smirked. “You’re not getting out of this now, William. After all, I can hardly leave you alive to tell your sire that I was here.”

“It’s a wee bit late for that, Darla.” Master Angel’s Irish accent was stronger than William had heard it in years.

Darla jolted and then the hand holding William’s throat went limp and she collapsed on the floor.

William stared in shock at blood stain forming around the stake that was sticking out of her back. Had Angel just killed a human?

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Angel stared at his sire’s body with a growing sense of horror. Why hadn’t she turned into dust? He forced his attention away from the body and studied William, who hadn’t moved since Darla had released him. His childe looked just as confused as he felt.

One minute he’d been dancing with Dara; the next he’d been in his bed and seen her threatening to stake William and had reacted. How was the possible? Maybe it was all a dream – after all, Darla was dead. Wasn’t she?

The problem was that it didn’t feel like a dream and the human blood that was pooling around her smelt very real. But even that pointed towards it being a dream – even if he hadn’t staked Darla in Sunnydale (which he was sure that he had) she was a vampire, not a human. She should have turned to dust when he staked her, not collapsed on the floor.

“What happened, William?”

William had been staring at the body, but he looked up at Angel’s words. “I don’t know, sire.”

Angel growled in annoyance. “What do you remember?”

William bared in neck. “I woke up because I smelt a human and saw her sitting on top of you, sire. I meant to distract her, but it was Mistress Darla and…” He shuddered. “She was human.”

 “Human?” Angel repeated in horror as he looked back down to the body. Sure she smelt human and had reacted to the stake through her heart like a human, but how could she be human? It didn’t make sense.

William looked unsure. “She smelt human, sire, and she didn’t deny it.”

Angel dropped to one knee, unconsciously mirroring William’s position, and half turned Darla over. It was definitely Darla, but she was also undoubtedly human. How was that possible? He let go of her, allowing her body to rock back into its original position, and stood up again. What should he do?

He had killed a human and, while he knew that the guilt over his action would likely hit him later, now all he could think about was how to dispose of the body. He couldn’t leave it there, obviously, but neither did he want to put it anywhere that might lead back to him. He still remembered the trouble Buffy had gone through when the police had linked the death of the Mayor’s secretary to her and Faith because of wood slivers in the wound. If Kate Lockley found Darla’s body then she would definitely link any wood slivers back to him.

The best thing to do would be to give the body to a demon who would eat the flesh off the bones – a wihtikow would be best. Angel wondered if there were any currently living in Los Angeles. His lip curled at the idea of having to look around the city for a wihtikow, let alone actually meet with one – the scent of rotting meat that always surrounded them was disgusting.

Angel turned his attention to his childe who was still kneeling beside the body. “We’ll need to dispose of the body. You can carry it.”

“Now, sire?” William asked, his arms already reaching out to pick up Darla’s body.

“Get dressed first.” Angel instructed him. “Be ready in five minutes.”

It took Angel less than three minutes to be ready to go out and William was already waiting patiently for him beside the body. Angel was pleased to see that his childe had had the forethought to dress in his black shirt and cardigan. At least that way the blood that would inevitably get on his clothes wouldn’t be obvious.

 On Angel’s signal, William picked up the body and slung it over his shoulder, before following Angel down into the tunnels. Now all Angel needed to do was find a wihtikow.

7-7-7

It took them hours to find a wihtikow and then another hour to convince the thing to eat Darla’s body since apparently she smelt diseased. In the end though, the demon had consumed the body and Angel had stalked back to the Hyperon in a decidedly bad mood. William seemed to sense Angel’s mood, because the fledgling hadn’t made a sound since they had left the wihtikow’s lair. If it wasn’t for the act that Angel could smell his childe’s scent, he would have felt the need to turn around to check that William was still present.

The guilt that Angel had been expecting had arrived. Except it wasn’t guilt at killing a human, instead Angel felt guilty at his lack of guilt. He had killed a human – put a stake through a woman’s heart – and he didn’t regret it a bit. She had been about to stake William – that alone was reason enough for him to have killed her. Let alone whatever she had been doing in Angel’s bedroom to start with.

Besides, human or not, she had been Darla – a woman who had slaughtered hundreds of innocents for pleasure. Angel had felt guilty for staking her the first time around, she had been his sire after all, but he’d long since made his peace about it.

Angel strode into the Hyperon, though the tunnel entrance, and then into the kitchen – ignoring Cordelia’s surprised expression as he strode past her desk in the foyer.

He sat down on one of the barstools and gestured his childe towards the fridge. “Blood and coffee.” He was definitely going to need caffeine to get through the day, he’d only managed to get two and a half hours of sleep.

Cordelia entered the kitchen less than a minute later, Wesley and Gunn following behind her, and her cheerful expression made Angel groan quietly.

“You’re up early.” Cordelia commented, not even attempting to hide her curious tone. “We don’t usually see you for another few hours at least.”

Angel considered ignoring her, but he knew from experience that ignoring Cordelia only led to a louder, and more irritated, voice.

“Something happened last night.” He said, his eyes fixed on the microwave that was warming his blood. “Give me a chance to have something to drink and I’ll explain everything.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “It’s not like you’re busy warming up your blood or anything.” She looked around the room and, upon seeing that Wesley and Gunn were sitting on the two other barstools, huffed in annoyance. “We really need another chair in here.”

The microwave binged and William quickly handed Angel a mug of blood.

“Go get Cordelia a chair.” Angel told him, before bringing the mug to his lips and taking first wonderful mouthful.

“Yes, sire.” William quickly left the room.

The room was silent while William was gone and Angel took the opportunity to enjoy his mug of blood without interruptions. William returned within less than a minute though and, after placing the chair he had brought near Cordelia, went back to warming Angel’s blood.

“Would any of you like William to make you a drink?” Angel asked the humans.

“Oh, yes!” Cordelia agreed instantly. “I’ve only had one coffee this morning.”

“I’ll have a tea.” Wesley put in.

Angel turned to Gunn. “Anything for you?”

“I’ll have a coffee.” Gunn answered, his eyes shifted to where William was standing. “Three sugars, no milk.”

Angel raised an eyebrow in surprise. Gunn had never accepted a coffee from William before, maybe the man was warming up to him.

William bared his neck in acknowledgement and began to pull out extra mugs.

“So,” Cordelia began. “You’ll never believe what happened to me on my way to work this morning.”

“Did you run out of gas?” Gunn asked her.

“No,” Cordelia sighed exasperatedly. “Some idiot cut me off!”

Angel turned his attention to his childe, who had begun to make the hot drinks, and tried to block out Cordelia’s inane commentary of her morning. It was far too early for him to even pretend to care. Eventually the microwave binged again and William brought him his second mug of blood. For a moment Angel considered drinking from his childe instead, but he knew that it would disturb the humans the room. It had taken them months to get used to him drinking blood with them in the room, he didn’t think they were ready to see him drinking from another vampire.

He took the mug from his childe and brought it up to his mouth to drink. He’d only just swallowed the first mouthful when he realised that Cordelia had fallen silent. Angel turned towards her and realised that she, Gunn and Wesley, were all watching him expectantly.

“What?”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “You’ve had something to drink, now tell us what happened last night.”

“Don’t you want to wait until you’ve got your drinks?” Angel asked hopefully.

“Spill!” Cordelia ordered flatly.

Angel looked back at where William was pouring boiling water into mugs. “I actually missed the first part of it, maybe we should wait until William can tell his part of the story?”

“Angel!” Cordelia snapped in frustration.

Angel sighed. “Fine. Last night I had a dream about Darla.” He saw William look around in surprise.

“Your sire?” Wesley sounded puzzled.

Angel nodded. “We were dancing and talking, though I can’t remember what we were talking about, and then I woke up and saw that she was about to stake William.”

“Isn’t she dead?” Cordelia asked. “Didn’t you stake her, like, years ago? Because I distinctly remember hearing about you staking her back in Sunnydale.”

Angel shrugged helplessly. “Anyway, I jumped out of bed and put a stake through her heart.”

There was a long pause and then Gunn spoke. “Is that it? Because I was kind of expecting more.”

“More than his dead sire coming back to life to try and kill William?” Cordelia asked incredulously.

Angel paused as William approached them and, with neck properly bared, passed Angel and Gunn each a drink. A few seconds later he returned with Wesley and Cordelia’s drinks. For a moment Angel was surprised to realise that William considered Gunn to be highest human in the court, but as he considered it he realised that it made sense. Vampire hierarchy came down to age and power and, while Wesley was the oldest human, Gunn was definitely the most dangerous in a fight.

“Well?” Cordelia prompted him.

“William,” Angel turned to his childe who had returned to watching the microwave heat blood. “Tell them what you told me.”

William stepped closer. “I woke up and smelt a human…”

“Wait,” Gunn interrupted. “A human? Angel, I thought you said it was your sire.”

Angel frowned disapprovingly. “Go on, childe.”

“Yes, sire.” William bared his neck. “I looked around and saw her sitting on top of Master Angel, but he was still asleep, so I stood up and got her attention.”

“But you aren’t capable of hurting humans.” Wesley pointed out. “What were you expecting to do? Scare her off with your words?”

“No, Master Wesley.” William answered. “I hoped I would be able to distract her for long enough for Master Angel to awaken.”

“But what if she staked you?” Cordelia asked in concern.

William shrugged. “My sire’s life is of greater importance than my own, Mistress Cordelia.”

“Not going to argue with you there.” Gunn muttered, low enough that Angel knew that only he and William would have heard. But Angel thought he saw a glimmer of respect in the human’s eyes.

 “Continue with your story, William.” Angel ordered him, before drinking a mouthful of coffee.

“When she turned around, I realised that she was Mistress Darla.” William continued. “She threatened to stake me, but sire staked her first.”

“Wait, I’m confused.” Cordelia said. “If it was Darla, why did she smell like a human?”

“She was human.” Angel admitted. “When I staked her through the heart she collapsed and died like a human. Pool of blood and everything.”

“Woah!” Gunn stood up. “Hold up. Are you telling us that you killed a human?”

“I killed Darla,” Angel defended. “And only because she was holding a stake to William’s chest. But yes, she was human.”

“Fascinating.” Wesley commented. “Do you have any theories as to why she might have been human?”

“None.” Angel shook his head. “I don’t know why she was alive either. I saw her explode into dust four years ago.”

“Can we go back to the part where Angel killed a human?” Gunn asked. “He murdered someone!”

“I killed a mass-murdering ex-vampire in defence of William.” Angel told him.

Cordelia grimaced. “Does this mean that there’s a dead body upstairs? Because if so, ewww, and there is no way I’m cleaning it up.”

“No,” Angel assured her. “No dead body. William and I took care of it.”

“What did you do?” Gunn asked, his expression conflicted.

“We gave her body to a wihtikow.” Angel answered, and then, when only Wesley seemed to understand, added: “It’s a demon who eats human flesh.”

“Ewww!” Cordelia complained.

“That’s cold, man.” Gunn shook his head. “I can’t believe you killed a human.”

“I didn’t realise she was human until her body collapsed instead of exploding into dust.” Angel defended.

“I’m more concerned about what she was doing in your bedroom.” Wesley put in. He turned to William, who was bringing Angel his third mug of blood. “You said that she was sitting on top of Angel?”

“Yes, Master Wesley.” William passed Angel the mug. “She was sitting astride him.”

“Astride?” Cordelia looked amused. “Well, Angel, you did say that you and Darla used to get it on. Maybe she just wanted a bit of action.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Why would she have tried to kill William then?”

“Maybe she didn’t want an audience.” Cordelia was smirking now.

“She never minded one before.”

Cordelia’s smirk disappeared. “And again with the ewww!”

“TMI, dude!” Gunn protested.

Angel sipped at his blood to hide his victorious smirk.

“You said you were dreaming of her?” Wesley asked. “Is that a regular occurrence for you?”

“No.” Angel denied. “I dream about her sometimes, but not often and never like this dream.”

Wesley looked thoughtful. “Do you think that perhaps her presence and your dream are connected somehow?”

“You think she might have done something to give me the dream?” Angel asked. “To what end?”

“I don’t know.” Wesley admitted. “Obviously someone resurrected her, but who? And for what reason?”

“Wolfram and Hart.” Angel growled as the thought came to him.

Wesley’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why would they go to the effort of resurrecting your sire?”

“I have no idea.” Angel answered. “But I’m sure that it was them!”

7-7-7

The rest of the day went slowly, as far as William was concerned at least. He wasn’t sure what his sire and the humans were doing, but he had been ordered to spend the day filing again. It was a satisfying and methodical task and William found himself thoroughly enjoying it. Particularly when he considered the other things that he could have been ordered to do. He would rather spend a day filing than help Master Gunn train again.

It was the third day that he had been assigned to do some filing and there were now significantly more papers in the filing cabinets than on the floor and desk. William hoped that Mistress Cordelia would be pleased.

William looked up when he heard footsteps moving towards him. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence but this time the footsteps didn’t keep going. Instead the door swung open, prompting William to hurriedly stand and bare his neck towards the door.

“Wow!” Master Gunn commented from the doorway. “This place looks great.”

William stayed quiet, waiting for an order or a question.

Master Gunn paused, as though waiting for something, but eventually spoke again. “Anyway, we’ve all stopped for a snack and Cordelia said I should come get you.”

William followed the human towards the kitchen, his mind churning. He had presumed that Master Gunn was the highest ranking human in Angel’s court, but if he took orders from Mistress Cordelia then did that mean that it was her? It made no sense, after all, she was the weakest and the youngest of the three humans, but if she was the one that they listened to…

William’s stomach clenched in fear. He’d served her coffee last that morning – was she angry? If he had insulted Mistress Darla like that she would have disembowelled him.

Master Angel, Mistress Cordelia and Master Wesley were all in the kitchen when William entered and he searched Mistress Cordelia’s expression for a sign that she had been offended. When he didn’t find anything, he relaxed slightly. Maybe he would get away with the insult this time.

“The usual, childe.” Master Angel ordered from his seat on one of the barstools and William immediately moved to the fridge to retrieve a bag of blood.

“So you didn’t find anything then?” Mistress Cordelia asked Master Angel.

“No, nobody seems to know anything.” Master Angel replied. “I was thinking that I would go see the Host tonight. Maybe he’ll be able read something.”

“You’ll be singing again then?” Master Wesley sounded amused.

William placed the mug of blood he had prepared in the microwave and turned it on, before filling the kettle and switching it on as well.

“Maybe you could do it.” Master Angel suggested hopefully.

“I doubt that The Host would read anything about Darla off me.” Master Wesley told him with an audible smirk. “It wasn’t me she was straddling.”

“Will you take William?” Mistress Cordelia asked.

William, who was spooning coffee into Master Gunn’s mug, paused to listen.

“Yes, I think so.” Master Angel said. “Maybe The Host will be able to read something off him.”

“Can Spike sing?” Master Gunn asked with a laugh.

“Better than me.” Master Angel answered.

Mistress Cordelia laughed too. “I should hope so; I’d hate to think that there are people worse than you.”

“He probably wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t insist on singing ‘Mandy’.” Master Wesley commented.

“It’s a good song!” Master Angel protested as the microwaved binged.

William retrieved the mug of blood from the microwave and carefully carried it over to Master Angel, passing it to him with his neck bared.

“Thank you, William.” Master Angel said.

William moved back to the bench and began filling a second mug with blood as the others began talking again.

“I have a question.” Master Wesley started.

“You always have questions.” Mistress Cordelia told him.

“There’s wrong with a healthy dash of curiosity.” Master Wesley told her stiffly.

Master Gunn snorted. “A dash of curiosity? Dude, you’ve got a whole galleon of curiosity and that ain’t healthy.”

“What did you want to ask, Wesley?” Master Angel asked.

Master Wesley cleared his throat quietly. “Is the transition from fledging to master instantaneous, or is it gradual?”

“It’s both.”  Master Angel answered. “There is a gradual change, but the final aspect of it happens in an instant. Why?”

“You told us that the reason that William acts the way he does is because he is a fledgling.” Master Wesley started. “But, he’s already been a fledgling for a century, and I know that most of that doesn’t count, but nineteen years of that was with you.”

“Yes.” Master Angel agreed as the kettle finally boiled. William carefully poured the water into the three mugs and then topped them up with milk.

“So why is as subservient as he is?” Master Wesley asked. “He’s at least halfway to being a master.”

“Possibly.” Master Angel commented. “But I have heard of fledgling taking over sixty years to become a master, even when they spent the entire time with their sire.”

“Still, none of your childer have taken that long.” Master Wesley pointed out. “From what William told me, Penn took the longest and he only took forty years.”

“Yes,” Master Angel sounded proud. “The Line of Aurelius has always been strong.”

William carried Mistress Cordelia and Master Gunn’s drinks across the kitchen and respectfully handed them to them. Then he repeated the action with Master Wesley’s drink.

“So, he’s at least halfway there.” Master Wesley said again.

“Possibly.” Master Angel repeated. “However, his eighty years without a sire may have extended his time as a fledgling.”

“You think he might have to start all over again?” Mistress Cordelia asked. “That would suck!”

“I don’t know.” Master Angel admitted as the microwave binged again. William retrieved the mug of blood and passed it to his sire.

“Make yourself some now, childe.” Master Angel instructed him

“That would explain his subservience though.” Master Wesley continued their conversation once William had walked to the fridge.

“It could.” Master Angel agreed. “But I suspect that William’s behaviour is related to my expectations more than anything else. I am having to retrain him and so am demanding a higher standard of behaviour than I might expect from another fledgling of his age.”

“Retrain him?” Mistress Cordelia didn’t sound happy. “You make him sound like a dog.”

“Not a dog,” Master Angel corrected patiently. “A fledgling vampire.”

“Still!” Mistress Cordelia exclaimed. “It hardly seems fair. He’s five times older than me.”

William placed a mug filled with blood into the microwave for himself. It was the strange things about humans, they didn’t live very long at all. He was still young in vampire terms and he was older than any humans would ever be.

“Life isn’t fair.” Master Angel told her. “Besides, William isn’t complaining.”

“Probably because he’s scared you would beat him up.” Mistress Cordelia argued.

“Is that true, William?” Angel’s voice was deceptively light. “Do you think I’m being unfair?”

“No, sire.” William denied quickly. If anything his sire had been overly kind.

“See?” Master Angel told Mistress Cordelia. “You have to remember that we’re from a different culture to you. Pretend that we’re from a different country…”

“You are from a different country.” Master Wesley put in. “You’re Irish and William is English.”

“True.” Master Angel acknowledged. “But pretend we’re from a country that hasn’t been westernised. Of course we’re going to act differently.”

“That doesn’t make it alright.” Mistress Cordelia grumbled.

“If I was torturing virgins, then I would agree with you.” Master Angel told her. “But I’m not. As you said, William is five times older than you. If he is alright with the way that I treat him, then I don’t see why you have a problem with it.”

The microwave dinged and William took out his mug of blood, trying to ignore the tense silence in the room. He took a sip of the blood and then spent a moment savouring the taste – he loved human blood!

7-7-7


	8. Chapter 8

There was something comforting about Caritas, though Angel sure what about the demon karaoke bar made him feel that way. Perhaps it was the freedom to be surrounded by other demons, without worrying about needing to kill them. It was nice to have the opportunity to act like a vampire. Of course, when Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn accompanied him, he still felt the pressure to act as a human would, but it was the one place where he felt as though he could really let loose.

Of course, now that William was living in his court, Angel had a lot more opportunities to act like a vampire than he’d had before, but still he couldn’t help but feel as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he and William entered Caritas.

The humans in his court had chosen not to accompany them, claiming a need for a night off – something that Angel totally understood. In way, this would be his night off as well.

Angel stalked through the bar, towards as empty table, before sprawling himself out on one of the chairs facing the stage. William followed his silently, one step behind and to Angel’s left, before standing to attention behind Angel’s chair.

“I’ll have a glass of O positive, childe.” Angel ordered, before turning his attention to the stage where a Vahrall Demon was crooning away to a Billy Idol song.

It was bizarre to be able to sit, surrounded by demons, and not feel the need to kill all of them. He’d found it hard at first, after all, many of the demons would probably kill a human within the next few days, but he couldn’t save everyone – no matter how much he wished he could.

William returned within a few minutes, Angel’s blood in hand. Angel accepting the blood silently, before gesturing for his childe to kneel beside his chair. How nice it was to be able to follow the customs of his culture, without feeling his friends’ condemning glares.

“Angel!” The Host greeted him cheerfully. “May I join you?”

“Of course.” Angel gestured to one of the chairs across from him.

“I met your childe at the bar.” The Host commented as he sat. “Are all your childer as attractive as he is?”

Angel smirked as he sipped at his wine. “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The Host laughed. “I don’t blame you, sweet cheeks. He’s a sweetie, isn’t he?”

Angel had to admit that he’d never considered his childe to be a ‘sweetie’, but then he supposed that the description fit William well. William’s disposition was certainly sweeter than any of his other childer’s had been.

“I didn’t know you still had a fledgling.” The Host’s said reprovingly.

“Neither did I.” Angel admitted. “William only rejoined my court ten days ago.”

The Host gave him a quizzical look. “How old is he?”

“One hundred and twenty.” Angel answered.

The Host’s eyebrows went up. “And still a fledgling?”

“He has been living without a master for the past century.” Angel explained curtly.

“Goodness.” The Host shook his head. “I’ve never heard anything like it, but then you do enjoy bringing me surprises, don’t you?”

“I need your help.” Angel told him.

The Host stiffened uncomfortably. “Now, Angel, you know that I don’t…”

“I know.” Angel interrupted in frustration. “But last night I had a visitor. My sire, who I staked three years ago, was apparently resurrected as a human.”

“Really?” The Host’s eyes widened.

“She’s dead now.” Angel told him flatly. “But I need to know who did it and why.”

“You want to know who killed her?” The Host asked.

“I know who killed her.” Angel answered. “I want to know who brought her back.”

“Ah,” The Host winced. “Well, you know what you need to do. As much as I think we all wish you wouldn’t.”

Angel ground his teeth in frustration. It wasn’t his fault that The Host insisted on having people sing in front of the entire bar before he would read their fortunes.

Singing was not the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done, but pretty damn close. And William’s presence didn’t make it any easier, though he comforted himself with the knowledge that if William said anything Angel could beat him until he bled. Something he definitely couldn’t do to The Host or his human friends.

Once the song was finally over, Angel stalked his way off the stage and back to his table where The Host was waiting for him.

“Well,” The Host looked shaken. “And again you bring surprises, sweet cheeks.”

“What is it?” Angel asked impatiently.

“I didn’t get much about your sire.” The Host admitted. “Except that you don’t need to worry about it anymore. But this other thing you’re doing, with the coven? It’s going to change everything!”

Angel wasn’t sure that he liked the sound of that. “Change everything how?”

“That, I can’t tell you.” The Host shrugged apologetically. “But, it’s definitely going to shake things up.”

“In a good way?” Angel asked.

“No idea.” The Host answered. “It’s not going to end the world, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Angel wasn’t sure that was all that comforting.

8-8-8

William watched as his sire, Master Gunn, and Master Wesley rushed out of the hotel – each armed with multiple different weapons. Apparently Mistress Cordelia had had a vision about a woman being attacked and they were planning on saving her.

The whole thing confused William, and not just because he didn’t see the point of trying to save random humans. Since when did Mistress Cordelia have visions? William was sure that he would have noticed if the Slayer’s gang had included a seer, so it must have been since she left Sunnydale. Which made no sense. Human seers were always born with the ability like Mistress Drusilla had been. So how was it possible that Mistress Cordelia was having visions? Still, the fact the she was a seer certainly explained why she was the highest ranking human in his Sire’s court. Seers were very valuable and extremely rare. Master Gunn would easily be able to best Mistress Cordelia in a fight, but while enforcers were easily replaced, seers were not.

William looked back to where Mistress Cordelia was lying on the couch. “Is there anything you need, Mistress Cordelia?”

Mistress Cordelia removed the hand that had been covering her eyes and then moaned. “Ow! Why is it so bright?”

William searched for the light switch, before flicking it off.

“Much better.” Mistress Cordelia sighed, trying to push herself upright. She gave up after a few seconds and slumped back down. “I need an aspirin and some water.”

“Yes, Mistress Cordelia.” William bared his throat.

“The aspirin should be in the third drawer below the kettle.” Mistress Cordelia added.

It took William less than two minutes to fill a glass with water and find the aspirin and he put the kettle on too, just in case Mistress Cordelia wanted a hot drink.

By the time he returned, Mistress Cordelia had pulled herself into a more upright position and she accepted the aspirin and water with a weak smile.

“Thanks.”

There was a faint noise outside the hotel doors and William quickly turned his attention towards them, moving so that he was between the doors and Mistress Cordelia.

“William?” Mistress Cordelia asked questioningly.

William was saved from answering when the hotel doors were pushed open and four humans walked through. There were three men, two who were dressed as police officers, and one who reminded William of Master Abel, and one woman.

“Angel?” The woman called aggressive.

“Crap.” Mistress Cordelia muttered from the couch. “Of all the nights that Kate bloody Lockhart could drop in. Help me up, William.”

William wasn’t convinced that it was a good idea, but he helped her up regardless.

“Can we help you?” Mistress Cordelia asked them, leaning heavily on William’s arm.

The four humans walked across the room, until they were standing a few feet away from William.

“We’re looking for Angel.” The woman said with a scowl.

“He’s not here right now.” Mistress Cordelia told her. “Maybe I can help?”

The man who looked like Master Abel eyed Mistress Cordelia. “What happened to you?”

Mistress Cordelia glared at him. “That’s none of your business, Lindsey. What do you want?”

Lindsey smirked. “I’m with her.”

“When will Angel be back?” The woman asked in obvious frustration.

“No idea.” Mistress Cordelia answered blithely. “Are you sure I can’t help?”

“Who’s this?” Lindsey asked, gesturing towards William. “Found someone new to join your merry crew?”

“This is William.” Mistress Cordelia told him shortly. “Now, either tell me what you want, or get out. This is private property.”

The woman offered Mistress Cordelia a piece of paper, but William made sure to grab it first. For all he knew the paper could be poisoned.

“We have a search warrant to search the premises.” The woman told Mistress Cordelia.

Mistress Cordelia groaned. “Seriously, Kate?”

“We’re looking for a young woman who was last seen entering this building.” Kate told her.

William winced inwardly when Mistress Cordelia stiffened against his side. The movement had been small, but if there had been any vampires in the room they would have caught it immediately.

“What woman? And when?” Mistress Cordelia asked in a confused voice.

“DeEtta Kramer.” Lindsey answered, his body language just as aggressive as Kate’s. “She was a good friend of mine. She told me on Saturday night that she was coming to meet with Angel. That was the last time I heard from her.”

“And what?” Mistress Cordelia asked. “You think that Angel just decided to kill her or something?”

Kate shifted impatiently. “We don’t have time for this. We’re going to search the premises now.”

“Go for it.” Mistress Cordelia rolled her eyes. “You won’t find anything though, because Angel didn’t kill anyone!”

William couldn’t help but be impressed by Mistress Cordelia’s lying skills.

Kate and the two uniformed officers stalked away, presumably to look into every nook and cranny of the hotel, leaving Lindsey behind. Mistress Cordelia’s legs suddenly seemed to give way beneath her and William quickly caught her, wincing as the action caused his chip to fire a warning.

William helped Mistress Cordelia back onto the couch and then stood by her head, eying up the human. Lindsey really did look an awful lot like Master Abel, though he was a lot thinner and not nearly as intimidating.

Lindsey stepped forward and offered his hand to William. “Lindsey McDonald.”

William eyed the hand distrustfully for a moment, before shaking it. “William Pratt.”

“What made you sign on with this merry crew of losers?” Lindsey asked.

William considered what to say. Should he admit to being Angel’s childe? Or just claim past familiarity with Angel?

“He’s one of the Angel’s kids.” Cordelia answered for him. “The youngest one.”

Lindsey looked him over appraisingly. “A vampire then.”

William raised an eyebrow silently.

“You know,” Lindsey went on. “I’ve done a lot of research on Angel and I don’t think I’ve ever heard of you.”

“You probably know him as Spike.” Cordelia offered. “You know, one of the Scourge of Europe.”

Lindsey’s eyebrows went up. “Really? Tell me, William, do you have a soul too?”

“No.” William answered flatly.

“And yet, Angel keeps you around.” Lindsey seemed fascinated. “He killed his other childe, you know.”

William did know and, while there was a part of him that was horrified, he wasn’t exactly mourning Penn. Angel might have liked him, but Penn had been William’s least favourite sibling. Which, when you considered the others in the line-up, was really saying something.

“It’s interesting to see you here.” Mistress Cordelia told Lindsey. “It certainly confirms our theory.”

“Your theory?” Lindsey asked.

“That Wolfram and Hart were behind the little incident that we had to deal with earlier this week.” Mistress Cordelia explained.

Lindsey’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a confession?”

Mistress Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Are you a cop? No, it’s not a confession, you idiot, it’s an accusation.”

“What did you do to her?!” Lindsey stepped forward threateningly and William quickly moved so that he was between the two humans. Sure there wasn’t anything he could really do, but at least he could gain Mistress Cordelia time. He was almost surprised when Lindsey quickly backed up, before realising that there was no reason the human would know about his chip. It was refreshing to intimidate someone again.

“I’m not sure who you’re referring to.” Mistress Cordelia told him. “If you’re talking about that DeEtta woman, then the answer is nothing. I’ve never even heard of her in my life. But if you’re referring to the resurrected mass murdering vampire that broke into the hotel a few days ago, then I have no problems admitting that we treated her as we would any other mass-murdering vampire.”

The grief that flooded into Lindsey’s expression and scent surprised William. Though he supposed that it shouldn’t have, Mistress Darla had always been good at seducing men.

“She’s dead then?” Lindsey asked brokenly.

“Good luck resurrecting her again.” Mistress Cordelia told him unsympathetically. “Or better yet, don’t run around resurrecting evil vampires, then you might not end up in these kinds of messes.”

Lindsey sneered. “Always so high and mighty, holier than though, and yet you have an evil vampire standing right beside you. I don’t see you rushing to stake him!”

“William is reformed.” Mistress Cordelia told him firmly.

Lindsey snorted. “Vampires don’t reform!”

“William?” Mistress Cordelia asked. “When was the last time you killed a human?”

William thought about it. “Fifteen months and four days ago, Mis…” He trailed off, unsure whether he was supposed to show Mistress Cordelia the appropriate amount of respect in front of a strange human.

“Thank you.” Cordelia’s tone was triumphant. “See, Lindsey, a reformed vampire.”

Lindsey didn’t seem to know what to do with that. “Unbelievable.”

“Why did you send Darla after Angel, anyway?” Cordelia asked curiously.

Lindsey opened his mouth to answer, before shutting it again when Kate rushed back into the room.

“There are drops of dried blood in Angel’s bedroom.” She announced triumphantly.

William winced inwardly. “They’re not going to match this woman you’re looking for.”

Kate turned him defiantly. “Whose blood is it then?”

“Mine.” William admitted.

The humans all looked sceptical, except for Mistress Cordelia that was. She just looked uncomfortable.

“Prove it!” Kate challenged him.

William glanced towards Mistress Cordelia, before beginning to unbutton his cardigan. He couldn’t believe it, how had he missed the blood drops when he was cleaning up? Angel was going beat him senseless.

It took less than a minute for William to strip off his cardigan and the shirt underneath, then he turned so that his back was to the humans.

“What the hell?” Kate’s voice was disbelieving. “Did Angel do that?”

“Put your shirt back on, William.” Mistress Cordelia commanded firmly.

William carefully put his clothes back on, before turning back to face the humans. Kate looked just as horrified as Mistress Cordelia had been the first time she had seen welts on his back, Lindsey looked calculating, and the two uniformed police officers looked uncomfortable.

“I demand to know what’s going on!” Kate told them.

Mistress Cordelia looked amused. “He’s just kinky that way. Guess you’re glad that nothing ever happened between the two of you, huh, Kate?”

Kate sputtered. “What?”

Lindsey rolled his eyes. “He’s the same as Angel, Kate. It’s just a thing that they do.”

“That’s sick!” Kate shuddered.

“And yet, not prosecutable.” Mistress Cordelia pointed out. “Now if you would excuse us. I could really do with a cup of tea, and I think you’re done here.”

Kate glared at Mistress Cordelia for a few seconds, but then spun around and stalked out of the hotel. The two uniformed officers on her heels.

“Don’t think this is over!” Lindsey snarled at them. “Just because Darla’s gone doesn’t mean that we’ll give up.”

Mistress Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Just what is it that were trying to do?”

Lindsey sneered at her, before storming after Kate.

William watched them leave, before turning his attention back to Mistress Cordelia. “Would you like me to get you a cup of tea, Mistress Cordelia?”

Mistress Cordelia’ entire body relaxed in the couch. “Yes, please. Of all the nights that Kate Lockley could have come, it just had to be tonight. Though, it was probably for the best that Angel wasn’t here. Those two don’t exactly get along.”

William bared his neck respectfully, before turning toward the kitchen. He wondered what had happened between his sire and the police detective.

8-8-8

“And then William just stepped between us!” Cordelia exclaimed. “It’s like he didn’t even care about the fact that he was completely defenceless against Lindsey, he just stepped between us anyway.”

Gunn listened uncomfortably from his place on the left side of the couch. This was the problem with working with Angel, there was so much grey area. When it had just been him and his gang fighting vampires it had been easy, vampires were evil and you staked them.

It had taken him a long time to get used to working with Angel. But in the end, Angel’s soul had been the deciding factor. Sure vampires were evil, but they were evil because they didn’t have a soul, so a vampire with a soul wasn’t evil. Sure the logic probably wouldn’t hold up against any great philosophers, but it worked for him.

But now there was Spike, or William as they were supposed to call him. William who, despite being a vampire and not having a soul, he wasn’t allowed to stake. And who, despite Gunn’s best efforts, it was becoming harder and harder to simply mark off as evil.

Because while William might have been a soulless vampire, but he was also incapable of killing anyone. Which, technically, didn’t make him good, but it did mean he couldn’t act out any of his evil little urges. But beyond that, William just didn’t seem evil. He wore cardigans, and spent hours doing Cordelia’s filing. And not only that, but twice now had put his life on the line to protect someone else – which didn’t seem evil at all. Could evil people be self-sacrificing?

In fact, the longer William stayed with them (and, woah, had it only been two weeks) the more Gunn liked the guy, and the less Gunn liked Angel. Who it turned out, could be a complete jerk.

“…showed them his back.” Cordelia was saying. “You should have seen Kate’s face.”

“What about his back?” Gunn asked. Just how much of the story had he missed?

“It covered in welts.” Cordelia said, her voice accusing. “Shouldn’t he have healed by now, Angel?”

“It takes twenty two hours for the welts to heal.” Angel said emotionlessly, like the guy didn’t know how creepy it was that he knew that.

“Wait,” Cordelia’s voice rose. “You mean they were new? Just how often do you beat him?”

“Every morning.” Angel’s voice was even. “I find that it helps encourage good behaviour.”

Gunn grimaced, because this was the problem. More and more, he found himself sympathising with the blond vampire whose sire apparently systematically beat him daily. It was wrong! Regardless of how evil William might be.

Except, William didn’t seem to think it was wrong. If anything, he seemed to think that his sire was being particularly lenient. And Angel’s speech a few days before about respecting their culture as being different, but not necessarily wrong, had made some sense. Except wasn’t it wrong? And shouldn’t all evil vampires be staked, chip or not?

Gunn’s world was becoming increasingly grey and he didn’t like it. His gang would have been horrified to find out how much he had changed.

“You mean you beat him that much every morning?” Cordelia asked in audible horror. “Angel, Kate found blood drops of the floor! You beat him until he bled!”

Angel looked frustrated. “We’re vampires, Cordelia. But not, I don’t ‘beat’ William that much every morning. At least half of those welts were punishment for him having initiated contact with you yesterday. You told me that he offered you tea.”

“Are you kidding me?” Cordelia asked. “I told you that because it was nice! Because I liked that he did it. It was a ‘look at how nice William is being’ story.”

“William knows that he isn’t allowed to approach any of you.” Angel said, forbiddingly.

“Maybe that should change.” Wesley suggested gently. “After all, I believe we have all become accustomed to his presence now.”

“I can’t believe you did that!” Cordelia was shaking her head. “He was being nice!”

“He was disobeying a rule.” Angel returned.

Gunn couldn’t help but be amused at the similarities between this conversation and conversations his parents had used to have.

“I agree with Wesley.” He put in. “I think we should get rid of that rule.”

“Do you agree, Cordelia?” Angel asked.

“Yes,” Cordelia crossed her arms over her chest. “I also think that you shouldn’t be such a monster.”

Angel sighed. “I’m sorry that I upset you. This is why I try and keep most of my vampire stuff out of sight, but I told her that it was going to be harder for me to do that with William here.”

“Angel,” Wesley started. “We don’t want to you feel as though you have to hide who you are from us, but you’ve got to understand that it’s very different from what we are accustomed to.”

“I know.” Angel sounded tired. “Maybe you should all have a conversation with William about it. Hear his side of the story, without me around.”

“So we can hear the Stockholm syndrome talking?” Cordelia accused.

“So that you can understand that to him, this isn’t wrong.” Angel corrected. “It’s entirely consensual. Even some humans have consensual relationships like this, don’t they?”

“They do,” Wesley cleared his throat uncomfortably. “However, I wouldn’t describe it as common.”

“Look,” Angel ran a hand through his hair. “Just talk to William, alright? Then maybe we can talk about it a little more.”

8-8-8

 


	9. Chapter 9

William wasn’t sure what to think when his sire ordered him to attend the humans in the sitting room after breakfast. Angel’s warning, for William to be completely honest with them, didn’t make anything clearer.

None the less, it wasn’t his job to question his sire’s orders so he made his way towards the sitting room where, presumably, the humans were waiting for him. 

They were all sitting around the room, Mistress Cordelia looking frustrated, Master Gunn tapping his foot impatiently, and Master Wesley holding a notepad and pen in his hands, and, when William appeared at the door, Mistress Cordelia ordered him to sit down.

William obeyed swiftly, baring his neck respectfully as he sat, and then waited silently for her next order.

“Angel said we should talk to you.” Mistress Cordelia started. “About this horrible habit he has of torturing you.”

William had no idea what she was talking about.

Master Wesley cleared his throat. “William, you have to understand that, to us, your relationship with Angel is very confusing.”

“And unhealthy!” Mistress Cordelia added.

“From our perspective your relationship appears very abusive.” Master Wesley continued. “Now, Angel claims that it isn’t the case. He says that your relationship is indicative of a typical sire/childe relationship. He also claims that you are completely alright with the way that he treats you…”

“Stockholm syndrome.” Mistress Cordelia muttered.

Master Wesley ignored her. “But he suggested that maybe we could hear your perspective of the situation.”

William thought that, if the situation hadn’t been so serious (and if the humans hadn’t been masters in Angel’s court), he probably would have laughed. Were they actually worried about him?

“What do you have to say?” Mistress Cordelia asked in frustration after a few seconds a silence.

“Master Angel has been very kind, Mistress Cordelia.” William told her.

Mistress Cordelia waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard you say that before. Isn’t there even a small part of you that wishes Angel wasn’t such a dick?”

William shook his head. “No, Mistress Cordelia.” If anything there was a small part of him that wished that his sire wasn’t so concerned about the humans’ reaction and so would treat him as he used to.

Master Gunn leaned forward. “So you honestly don’t think there’s anything wrong with the fact that he canes you every morning?”

“No, Master Gunn.” William denied, shifting his shoulders in order to feel the pain from the welts on his back. “It is very kind of Master Angel to be willing to mark me every morning.”

“Oh my god!” Mistress Cordelia stood up. “I can’t handle this.”

“Sit down, Cordelia.” Master Wesley told her. “We agreed to listen to him.”

“Fine.” Mistress Cordelia sat down with a huff.

“Why do you like it?” Master Wesley asked him.

William wasn’t sure how to explain it. “Sires only discipline those whom they see as being valuable.”

“So if Angel was to stop beating you every morning, you would be disappointed?” Master Gunn asked.

“Of course, Master Gunn.” William told him seriously.

“And were you always this crazy?” Mistress Cordelia asked with sarcastic edge to her tone. “Or was it only after Angel tortured you for twenty years that you came to like it.”

William thought back to the first time that Angel had strung him up and whipped him until there was no skin on his back. Sure it had hurt, but there had been a part of him that knew that it meant his sire valued him. Of course, that didn’t mean that he hadn’t done everything he could to avoid ending up on the wrong end of his sire’s whip again.

“I have always been this way, Mistress Cordelia.” William told her.

“And you don’t mind it when Angel bosses you around, or lets us boss you around?” Mistress Cordelia asked incredulously. “You don’t mind having to serve Angel his blood before eating? Or baring your throat to us? Or not being allowed to use furniture without permission.”

William had no idea what they were looking for. “No, Mistress Cordelia. I am honoured that my sire demands my obedience.”

“You know,” Mistress Cordelia turned to the other humans. “I think I actually prefer the old Spike, the one that was always trying to kill us.”

William swallowed down his wince. Sometimes Mistress Cordelia reminded him of Mistress Darla, both of them were experts at wielding cruel words.

“Come on, Cordelia.” Master Wesley sighed. “Can’t you just accept that they’re different? They’re vampires. We were wrong to expect Angel to act the same as us.”

“Yeah,” Master Gunn put in. “If I can get past all this, surely you can too.”

Mistress Cordelia was silent for a few seconds, then she turned her attention back to William. “If you could change one thing about your life, what would it be?”

William was tempted to lie. If he had learnt anything from this conversation it was that they weren’t going to like his answer, but Angel had already warned him to completely honest with the humans. Which meant he would do it, even if it meant upsetting the humans and criticising his sire.

“Sometimes,” William swallowed nervously. “Sometimes Master Angel acts more like a human than a vampire.”

Mistress Cordelia leaned forward eagerly. “And you wish he did it more?”

“No, Mistress Cordelia.” William swallowed again. “I wish he didn’t do it at all.”

9-9-9

Angel, who had taken advantage of his vampire hearing to eavesdrop on the conversation, drew his eyebrows down into a frown at his childe’s audacity. How dare William think to criticize Angel’s treatment of him? Though, as audacious as William’s answer had been, Angel could feel his gut squirming uncomfortably. Did he really act more like a human than a vampire?

Not that there was anything wrong with being a human, but he was a vampire – and proud of it. Angel knew that he often ignored some of his spontaneous urges out of concern over what the humans would think, but he hadn’t thought it was that bad.

Gunn, Wesley and Cordelia seemed to have been stunned into silence by William’s reply, though Angel suspected it wasn’t so much over William’s audaciousness as the idea that his childe wanted Angel to be less human.

Eventually, Wesley cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”

William was silent for at least ten seconds and, if Angel had been in the room he would have backhanded his childe for his rudeness in keeping Wesley waiting. Well, no he wouldn’t have, because that would upset the humans, and maybe that was William’s point.

“It’s alright,” Gunn commented, in probably the gentlest tone Angel had ever heard from him. “You can be honest.”

“Yes, Master Gunn.” William answered immediately. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just answer the question.” Cordelia sounded peeved, something that Angel put down to the fact that conversation wasn’t going the way she had hoped that it would.

“Yes, Mistress Cordelia.” William answered, fear evident in his tone.

Angel couldn’t help but be amused by that. Somehow William had gotten it into his head that Cordelia was the highest ranking member of the court, aside from Angel of course, and had been treating her with the same level of terrified obeisance that he had always treated Darla with. Angel had no idea what had given William the idea that Cordelia might place higher in the court ranking than Gunn or Wesley, after all she was both the youngest and most defenceless of the three humans, but it amused him to no end. Particularly amusing was the way that none of the humans had picked up on it yet. Angel was looking forward to being present when Wesley and Gunn eventually figured out that William thought Cordelia was more terrifying than they were.

“Sometimes Master Angel doesn’t react as he would have when I was first turned.” William was saying.

“Of course he doesn’t, he has a soul now!” Cordelia exclaimed.

“Wait a minute, Cordelia.” Wesley forestalled her. “William didn’t actually answer the question. Give us an example of when Angel acted more like a human than a vampire.”

William was silent again and, as much as Angel longed to be present so that he could beat some respect into his childe, he understand that William’s silence was probably born out of fear of reprisal. A perfectly understandable fear given the punishments Angel was dreaming up for his childe’s audacity to criticise him.

“What was different about breakfast this morning?” Wesley asked gently.

“Master Angel didn’t require me to kneel.” William answered immediately. “And he drank blood from a bag, rather than from me. And he didn’t punish me when I spilt some of his blood on the bench.”

“Angel used to make you kneel!” Cordelia sounded almost shrill.

“Yes, Mistress Cordelia.” William answered neutrally.

“And you didn’t mind that?” Gunn asked incredulously.

“You actually wish he did it more?” Wesley added, sounding just as shocked at the others.

“Yes, Masters.”

“Oh my god!” Cordelia exclaimed. “I can’t handle this!”

“I have one more question.” Wesley said.                                                          

“Of course you do.” Cordelia tone had a scathing edge to it.

“What do you think about our reactions to the interactions between yourself and Angel?” Wesley asked, ignoring Cordelia.

“I don’t understand them, Master Wesley.” William admitted immediately.

“Do you ever wish that we would get out of the way and allow Angel to treat you as he wished?” Wesley followed up the question.

“You said one question.” Gunn sounded amused.

“It’s a follow-up question.” Wesley defended. “William?”

Sometimes Angel wondered at how little the humans seemed to understand William. Especially times like this when they asked him a question that would, by its very nature, most likely lead to William’s punishment.

If the question had been asked by Darla, or any of his childer, Angel would simply presume that they were trying to force William into incriminating himself. But Angel knew that Wesley had no such motive, unfortunately William probably didn’t.

“Yes, Master Wesley.” William admitted defeatedly, and Angel could easily imaging how his childe’s shoulders were likely slumped in expectation of punishment.

There was a long silence, before Wesley broke it. “Thank you, William. That will be all.”

Cordelia must have given some kind of indication that she agreed with Wesley, because the next thing Angel heard was the sound of his childe standing from his chair.

“Thank you, Mistress, Masters.”

Angel ignored the faint urge he had to move so that William wouldn’t know that he had been listening, that was exactly the kind of humanlike urge that William had been complaining about.

William’s terrified and repentant expression as he left the room and spotted his sire was exactly what Angel needed to temporarily soothe his growing urge to string his childe up by his ankles and whip all the blood out of him.

Angel ignored his childe and strode passed him, into the room that William had just left. He knew, from over a century’s experience of raising childer, that sometimes the fear of a coming punishment could be just as effective as the actual punishment.

Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn were all still sitting down, Cordelia and Wesley on the couch and Gunn in a nearby armchair, and they looked shell-shocked.

“Well?” Angel asked, striding across the room and sitting in his usual armchair. “Was that how you were hoping it would go?

“Were you eavesdropping?” Cordelia asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Of course.” Angel wasn’t even going to pretend to feel bad about that.

Gunn looked towards the door. “So will Spike be listening in now?”

“No.” Angel answered flatly. “ _William_ wouldn’t dare.”

Cordelia shuddered. “Your double standards are horrible.”

“Do you have any new questions for me?” Angel asked, looking around at all of them.

“You used to make him kneel?” Cordelia asked in disgust.

“Yes.” Angel answered simply. “I still do sometimes, when you aren’t around.”

“Why?” Wesley sounded more inquisitive than disgusted.

“Because he is my fledgling childe.” Angel answered, before realising that it probably hadn’t made anything clearer. “Because I enjoy the way it makes me feel, and William enjoys it too.”

Cordelia snorted. “You don’t give a toss what William thinks!”

Angel frowned. “Of course I do, he is my childe. Do I do some things to William purely for my enjoyment, regardless of what he feels about them? Yes, but as you just heard from William he likes that I do it. We are vampires. I need to control him, and he needs to be controlled.”

“Rubbish!” Cordelia snapped.

“William did just admit that he wished Angel made him kneel more.” Gunn pointed out neutrally.

“Because he’s brainwashed!” Cordelia protested.

“Brainwashing doesn’t last a hundred years.” Angel returned in frustration. “Maybe, if I’d had William with me for a few years you could use that argument, but I haven’t. He’s only been here two weeks, and he came here knowing exactly what it would be like.”

“He’s still evil.” Gunn said suddenly, and the non sequitur had Angel turning to him in confusion.

“What?”

Cordelia turned her glare towards Gunn. “So you’re saying that, because he’s evil, it’s alright for Angel to treat him like a slave.”

“No,” Gunn denied firmly. “I was just thinking that he doesn’t have a soul. We kind of expect Angel to be more human than vampire, because he has a soul, but Spike doesn’t have a soul – he’s just pure vampire. Doesn’t it make sense that he would be different to us?”

Angel frowned in frustration. “My soul doesn’t make me human, it just gives me a conscience.”

“I know that now.” Gunn told him with a slight grimace. “I’m just saying that, back when we thought you were basically a human with a vampire face, we expected you to be the same as us, but Spike is all vampire.”

It was all Angel could do not to shift into gameface and show Gunn just how much he was all vampire too.

Wesley was studying Angel with a discomforting amount of scrutiny. “Just how much to you hold back because of us?”

“You’re all human and I respect that.” Angel said, trying to avoid the question. “I’ve done my best to make sure that I don’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Were you like this back in Sunnydale?” Cordelia asked suddenly. “Because you seemed a lot more human then.”

“I was more human in Sunnydale.” Angel admitted, relieved that Cordelia had fallen for his diversion. “But when Willow cursed me with my soul again, it was different. Before I had been a vampire cursed with human nature, Willow’s spell just gave me a soul and left the human nature out.”

Wesley was still studying him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Angel groaned inwardly in frustration, damn Wesley and his bulldog-like curiosity. “A lot.” He admitted.

“So you’re saying that when you’re with us, you pretend to be the kind of person that you think we want to you to be?” Cordelia asked, her eyes narrowed.

“To some degree, yes.” Angel agreed. “Not entirely though.”

“No, clearly not.” Wesley sounded amused. “Otherwise I’m sure you would brood a lot less.”

“No, the brooding is mostly an act.” Angel admitted, in for a penny in for a pound.

“Seriously?” Gunn exclaimed. “You thought we’d like you being a gigantic brooding bat?”

“I brooded naturally with the first curse.” Angel explained. “It made sense to use that experience as my basis for humanlike behaviour.”

“So what you’re saying is that we don’t really know you at all.” Cordelia said slowly, her hurt easily visible in her expression.

“Of course you do.” Angel protested. “You just know the human version of me. I didn’t think you would be particularly pleased by my vampire nature, and it looks as though I was right.”

Cordelia swallowed heavily at that. “It’s not that…”

“It’s not that we don’t like the vampire version of you.” Wesley took over when Cordelia trailed off. “It is simply very different from what we are accustomed to seeing from you.”

Angel raised an eyebrow sceptically.

“Alright, fine, we do object to the vampire you,” Cordelia admitted. “But maybe we wouldn’t, if you hadn’t hidden it from us in the first place.”

Angel very much doubted that. “So what you’re saying is that you want to me to be more vampire-like?”

Cordelia squirmed uncomfortably.

“We want you to be you.” Gunn said bluntly.

“Are you sure?” Angel asked, studying each of their expressions. “You want me to make William kneel, and drink from him while you’re around, and punish him in front of you?”

They all exchanged glances. “Yes,” Wesley said eventually. “At least for now. Let us get to know you properly.”

“Alright.” Angel said, still unconvinced. “But make sure you let me know when it’s too much and you want me to go back to pretending to be human.”

“We won’t need to.” Cordelia said, though she didn’t sound very confident.

“Thank you.” Angel told them seriously, as he stood up. “It means a lot to me that you’re willing to try this.”

“You are welcome.” Wesley answered, just as Cordelia asked,

“Where are you going?”

“To find William.” Angel smirked darkly. “We need to a have a _chat_ about some of things he admitted to you.”

“You’re going to punish him.” Cordelia realised, her tone slightly horrified. “But didn’t you tell him to be honest?”

“Lesson one about vampires,” Angel explained. “Just because a fledgling has been ordered to do something, doesn’t mean that the outcome won’t earn them a punishment.”

“But why would they do it then?” Gunn asked.

“Because the punishment of not obeying would be even worse.” Angel answered flatly.

“It seems unfair…” Cordelia started, before trailing off.

“Lesson two about vampires.” Angel told her. “We honestly don’t have any interest in fairness.”

“What exactly is that you are planning on punishing him for?” Wesley asked, ever curious.

Angel allowed some of his fury to spill into his expression. “For having the audacity to think that he had the right to judge how I treated him, let alone judge how the three of you responded to the situation.”

9-9-9


	10. Chapter 10

William wasn’t even remotely surprised to hear his sire’s footsteps approaching the filing room where he was waiting. There was nothing for him to do, he had finished the filing the day before, but he hadn’t known where else to wait for his sire.

He was already standing, unwilling to risk sitting on the seat after having angered his sire (especially given that there was no work for him to do), and equally unwilling to risk Mistress Cordelia catching him sitting on the floor, so he simply bared his neck towards the door as his sire strode in.

“Kneel!” Angel snapped.

William dropped to his knees, his insides quivering in fear at the anger in his sire’s voice. He didn’t think he had heard his sire so angry with him since he’d rejoined Angel’s court.

“You know better than that, William.” Angel’s voice snapped across the room.

William glanced up at his sire’s face in surprise, before instantly regretting the movement when he saw Angel’s furious expression. He glanced back at the floor, before quickly lowering his head down until his forehead was resting on the floor – his hands resting by his knees and making it all but impossible for his to rise without moving them.

Angel stalked closer, until he was standing in front of William’s head. “So, you think I act more like a human than a vampire?”

William didn’t say anything, just waited silently for Angel to speak again.

“And you wish I didn’t?” Angel added.

There was another long silence and William focussed his attention on holding his body perfectly still.

“If it wasn’t that I knew Drusilla’s spell had been completely removed, I would presume that it was behind your shameless disdain for your sire.” Angel growled.

William’s stomach turned in horror, he’d never thought disdainfully of his sire, never! “No, sire…”

“Silence!” Angel snapped, his foot coming to rest heavily on William’s neck. “Clearly I have been neglectful if you think that this sort behaviour is acceptable. Did you think that I would allow you to speak contemptuously about me before my court without consequences?”

William held himself frozen, not even daring to swallow, as Angel’s foot lifted.

“Follow me!” Angel commanded him, striding towards the door.

William glanced unsurely after his sire, did Angel expect him to crawl or walk?

“On your feet.” Angel added, as though reading William’s mind. “I have no time to wait for you to crawl like the disrespectful little shite you are.”

William winced as he pulled himself to his feet, Angel’s Irish accent never signalled anything good. The worst punishments he had ever received from his sire had always be preceded by an Irish accent.

He followed Angel through the hotel, past the training room, through a door he hadn’t been through before and into a room that bore a startling resemblance to the punishment rooms his sire had always had before being cursed with a soul.

There wasn’t much too the room, certainly no stone walls like some of Angel’s punishment rooms had had, but there were chains hanging from the ceiling.

“Strip!” Angel commanded, before beginning to do something to the chains.

William quickly began to remove his clothing, carefully folding them and placing them near the door. As afraid as he was, he was simultaneously delighted. This was exactly the sort of thing that he had been talking to the humans about and, while he knew that his thoughts and words had been unpardonable, he was thrilled that they had managed to coax out this side of his sire.

Angel ignored him for a few minutes, continuing to fiddle with the chains, and after a while William suddenly remembered one of Angel’s rules that he had forgotten. He quickly lowered himself to his knees, trying to ignore the fact that he was naked, and placed his forehead on the floor again.

“At least you remember something.” Angel commented eventually, his tone hard. “Stand up.”

William stood, and barely managed to contain his flinch as Angel stepped towards him and manhandled him towards the chains. Then, without any warning, Angel picked him up and flipped him around.

“Hands on the floor.” Angel commanded, and William obeyed instantly.

William’s stomach clenched as Angel closed the manacles at the end of the chains around his ankles. His sire knew him well. Of all the creative punishments that Angel had delivered to him, hanging from his ankles had always been one of the ones he hated the most.

Within a few minutes, Angel had hoisted the chains up until William’s hands could no longer reach the ground and had stepped away.

“You are a fledgling!” Angel told him coldly. “My fledgling, and you have no right to have an opinion regarding my actions, or the actions of the masters in my court.”

William swallowed heavily, unsure of what was to come.

Then, without another word, Angel stepped forward and lifted William up and roughly sunk his teeth into his neck. Then, after a few seconds, Angel ripped his neck out, tearing through the skin, before doing the same thing on the other side of William’s neck.

William flinched as Angel unceremoniously dropped him, causing the manacles around his ankles to dig in, but the pain wasn’t nearly as horrible as watching Angel walk out of the room without looking back.

William hung still, blood slowly dribbling up his neck and into his hair line.

He knew from experience that the blood wouldn’t stop until there was none left, or Angel came back. He had no idea how exactly Angel managed to keep the wounds from healing but they never did.

He also knew that it would take hours for him to run out of blood, and by the time he had his hair would be completely drenched with it and there would be a large puddle on the ground beneath him.

He knew that he would start to get dizzy, and the pain around his ankles would get increasingly worse as the blood slowly dripped out of him.

He knew that eventually Angel would come back and stand irreverently in the puddle of blood to demonstrate just how worthless it was to him.

He knew that Angel would most likely then whip the skin from his back, while commenting in dark humour about the lack of blood to run out of the welts.

But he also knew, that as horrible as this was, and as much as the humans would hate the very thought of it, this was exactly what he had been missing from his sire. This was what sires did to their childer that they found valuable. And while the humans certainly wouldn’t see this as a demonstration of familial love, William did.

9-9-9

It was after dinner that Angel eventually returned to the room to release William from the chains that were hanging him the ceiling. He had visited the room around mid-afternoon, after at least two thirds of William’s blood had spilled out onto the floor, to deliver the second half of William punishment (a thorough whipping), before leaving him there again.

It had been annoying to dodge Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia’s questions about William’s location, but he had simply told them that they didn’t want to know. Cordelia had grimaced, Gunn had shifted uncomfortably, and Wesley had looked as though he wanted to ask another question but had thought better of it, and then they all left him alone about the issue.

Angel pushed the door open and took in the sight of his childe hanging limply by his feet over a large pool of blood. William looked pale, but his eyes were open and he stared silently at Angel.

Angel strode across the room, ignoring the blood on the floor, and grabbed hold of William before undoing the manacles that were around his childe’s ankles.

“Sorry, sire.” William whispered desperately. “ ‘m sorry.”

Normally Angel didn’t allow his fledglings to speak without permission, but he had always allowed them to break that rule after punishments. Darla hadn’t understood it and had believed that it underminded whatever lesson he had been teaching them, but Angel thought that it was important for his childer to connect with him again.

“You’re forgiven, childe.” Angel promised, releasing the second manacle and catching William’s weight as he fell.

“Sorry…” William said again. “Sorry.”

Angel gently turned William over in his arms and carried him out the door, ignoring the mess behind him for now. This was the problem with not having minions, in the past they would have cleaned up after William’s punishment, but now Angel had to decide whether to do it himself to have William do it in the morning.

It only took Angel a few minutes to carry William up to his bedroom, and he couldn’t help but be relieved that he hadn’t passed any of his friends on the way. Regardless of the things they had said that morning, about wanting him to be himself around them, he doubted they were ready to see William like that. He doubted they would ever be ready for that.

Once in his room, Angel used his fangs to rip open the skin on his wrist, before placing his rest against William’s mouth. William didn’t move as the blood dripped into his mouth, not even to swallow, and Angel smiled with pride.

“You can swallow, William.”

William swallowed immediately, and then again few seconds later, but didn’t attempt to suction more blood from Angel’s wrist.

Angel didn’t think he had ever felt so proud of his childe, not in the last century anyway. “Drink, childe.”

William’s eyes darted towards his face, before his lips tightened around the open skin on Angel’s wrist and he began actually sucking desperately at the blood source.

Angel allowed him to drink for a few minutes, but when he started to feel lightheaded he called his childe to a halt. William froze, partway through swallowing and didn’t move.

“Swallow.” Angel instructed, pulling his wrist away. That done, he lay his childe down on his mattress and covered him with a blanket. “Go to sleep.”

10-10-10

It took William a day and a half to recover from his punishment, time which he spent restricted to his mattress. Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley visited him occasionally, mostly to bring him blood (and to ask questions in Wesley’s case). William suspected that their actions were likely driven by a need to ensure that Angel hadn’t killed him.

Each of them had asked him some questions about what Angel had done to him, all of which William had answered vaguely (as Angel had instructed him to). The humans seemed both horrified at the idea of the punishment requiring him to spend a day recovering and completely flummoxed over how happy William was about it.

William felt more settled than he had for over a century, since Angel had last punished him like that, and he was thankful for the opportunity to spend the day enjoying his mellow glow. However, he was equally as grateful when Angel ordered him to get dressed the next morning. One day on the mattress was nice, two would have been boring.

He followed Angel down the stairs and into the kitchen, baring his neck respectfully at the humans who were already there before moving to warm his sire up some blood. He’d gotten used to the routine by now and within a few minutes he was placing the first cup of warm blood in front of his sire.

“William and I have another appointment with the coven today.” Angel told the humans, before turning his attention to William. “Drink it.”

William darted his eyes up to Angel’s face, to ensure that he hadn’t misheard his sire, before obediently downing the blood without taking the time to savour the taste. Did this mean that Angel was planning on drinking straight from his neck in front of the humans?

“Drink three more.” Angel instructed, before returning to his conversation with the humans. Though now they seemed to be discussing possible motives for Wolfram and Hart to have brought Darla back to life.

William quickly warmed up a second mug, and then a third, and then a fourth, using the time that they were microwaving to make his sire, and each of the humans, a hot drink. Coffee for his sire, Mistress Cordelia and Gunn, and tea for Wesley.

When he had finished the fourth mug of blood, William moved to stand at his sire’s elbow and waited for Angel to address him.

“…doesn’t make any sense.” Mistress Cordelia was saying. “They must have known that you were the one to kill her.”

“Maybe that’s why they chose her.” Master Gunn suggested. “They could have been trying to play on his guilt.”

William was so busy listening to their conversation that he almost missed Angel’s hand gesturing him to kneel. He allowed his eyes to dart up to Angel’s face again, his sire had never commanded him to kneel in front of the humans, before quickly dropping to his knees.

Mistress Cordelia, who was halfway through a sentence, stuttered before continuing smoothly.

It felt strange to kneel in front of the humans, but not in a bad way. It felt as though the world had suddenly returned to its normal order and everything was as it was. As he knelt, William remembered the horror that he had felt when Angel had informed him that he had to treat the humans like masters. It had seem unfathomable to him, after all humans were food, but now it felt just right.

After a few minutes, Angel’s hand grasped William behind his neck and hauled him to his feet. William quickly straightened his feet under him and bore his own weight as Angel sunk his teeth to his neck.

Because of the angle at which Angel was holding him, William couldn’t see the humans but he could sense them and smell them. They smelt shocked and a little horrified, but they didn’t say anything. After a few minutes, they even started up their conversation again. A conversation that Angel would occasionally release William’s neck to take part in, before returning to his meal after he had said his piece.

It reminded William of similar times, over a century beforehand, when this exact thing had taken place, though with Darla and some of Angel’s other childer as audience rather than the humans. It felt perfect, it felt like home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last part of Fledgling Realisations. I hope you have enjoyed it :)
> 
> I have one (possibly two) sequels planned, and I have actually started one of them, but it isn't my highest priority at the moment so it might take a while.


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